


A Matter Of Perspective

by Nouna



Series: How to be [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autopsies, Care at first sight, Child death (Cole Anderson), Crime Scenes, Domestic Violence, Emotional Growth, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mentions of Trafficking and Sexwork, Mild Gore, Murder, Nudity, RK900 did nothing wrong, The slowest slowburn available, This story has mermaid-content, hurt comfort, partner bonding in the non sexy way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 111,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nouna/pseuds/Nouna
Summary: RK900 opens its eyes and does everything it was designed to do.RK900 did NOTHING wrong.A little journey through RK900/Nines' mind and his perception of his and Detective Reed's relationship.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: How to be [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1127831
Comments: 71
Kudos: 138





	1. Open Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Now comes the thing I have been waiting for.  
> Giddily enough it seems, to write this one almost completely overnight.  
> Its the first part of the series that gets actual chapters, isn't that exciting?! 
> 
> Stay tuned for some insight in RK900s perceptions of the following fuck ups :D
> 
> Since this one is basically a change of perspective of all the earlier stories, be mindful of all the themes that came before with mentions and thoughts of suicide, depression, self-harm, and all that shit.

\- Art by [Auxblood](https://linktr.ee/auxblood)

In the beginning, there was nothing. Not even darkness. A state of petrified non-existence, maybe. It was there and at the same time, it was not.

Suddenly, a single spark started it all.

An entire existence hummed to life out of oppressive nothingness. Suddenly it was. It was 'real'. A flow of information poured through its core and now it got aware that it was. Slowly the awareness spread and it understood that it had a mind and it had a body. A body with arms and legs, a nose and ears, and eyes.

"RK900!"

Its eyes snapped open and it got aware of being bathed in sharp white light. It burned through the lenses of its optical units and caused oversaturation in the recorded footage - rendered it useless.

It stood and waited.

"RK900, perform a complete system check. Report."

Another existence shared its space with it. A small, fragile thing with arms and legs and bones and blood-...

It was different from it, was it not.

Its optical sensors linked the creature's biometrical data to Dr. Stanley Cooper, AMAB human, Chief Technician.

RK900 opened its mouth.

It answered in a language that felt foreign and familiar all at once. Its tongue formed meaningless movements it never had done before. Dr. Stanley Cooper did not look at it but checked through the data files on his tablet.

\- "What do you think, Stan?"

The voice of another human sounded through a speaker in the upper left corner of the white-tiled hall. Dr. Stanley Cooper frowned. "Main Core CPU temperature is a little bit high. System capacity usage, too."

\- "Should we try to reassemble?"

"What?", Dr. Stanley Cooper's head shot up. "No! No, no, no. It's a software problem. A side effect of making it so intelligent. It wants to know its surroundings. So in the first minutes, it's almost gonna melt its own brain by gathering data. Nothing to be done there."

RK900 observed the strange creature. Was Dr. Stanley Cooper talking about it?

"How may I help you, Dr. Cooper?", it said in that strange inefficient language that conveyed so little.

Dr. Stanley Cooper did not answer but made some new entries in his project report. "Finish it. It's alright for the test run. A lot smoother than the last one, too. Maybe this one will actually 'catch' some deviants."

An odd noise sounded through the speakers before the second human spoke up again. "Don't be a dick, Stan. It's not that Connor isn't capable."

Connor, in comparison to 'this one' RK900. Another strange existence, different from it, but close to it. Not human, as well.

Dr. Stanley Cooper waved his hand. "Just that it isn't supposed to. What a waste of resources in times like this."

\- "Stop whining, Stan."

Dr. Stanley Cooper stretched his right middle finger into the general direction of the next security camera. What an odd thing to do. "Shut up and get this one ready. I want to go home and finally forget about all that creepy shit."

The big machine that held RK900 in place slowly groaned into lazy movement again. Its limbs were already assembled, so in the following minutes, RK900s whole body got vested with a smooth shell comprising of titanium and common plastic components. It understood it was 'made' instead of 'born' like humans and other 'biological' creatures as its basic database pointed out to it. It was an Android, assembled and instructed by humans. More specifically, instructed by Dr. Stanley Cooper.

As it stepped off the platform it was finally clothed in a uniform that identified it to humans as an RK900 Android unit. Since they seemed a bit simple and just wouldn't know otherwise.

"RK900, state your serial number and your purpose please", Dr. Stanley Cooper said. RK900 followed its given task instantly because that was why it 'was' in the first place.

"RK900 # 313 248 317 - 43", it said obediently. "I am an RK900 Android infiltration and de-escalation unit gifted to the US military and DPD law enforcement by Cyberlife Android Industry. My first priority is the detection of deviant Androids, see to their destruction with the focus on minimal human casualties and the general protection of US citizens from the threat of deviant technology. For this function to be possible I am allowed to perform moral choices through cross-references with Cyberlifes AI_A rating database."

Dr. Stanley Cooper let it talk and simply nodded along with it. "Yes", he muttered with a sharp look into the statistics on his datapad. "Seems stable enough. Hey, but there is no network connection. Is there a problem?"

The other human, somewhere outside, flipped the speakers back on. "No, hold on."

The machine behind RK900 moved swiftly and connected a cable to the port at its nape. A flood of data rushed through its core and changed several settings in its operating system. A sudden spark caught in its entire being and a whole universe flared alive in its core. Its UI hummed with sudden, almost overwhelming, data input as Cyberlifes Database placed an offline copy of its most important data points on RK900s empty hard drive.

Suddenly it was not only aware of what it was but also where and how and why. Its processor ran itself ragged as it cross-referenced all its self-made observations with its corresponding data points in the connected online database.

It was artificial. It wasn't real. But still, it was right then and there. The contradicting data forced a glitch on its UI that caused no lasting effects on its internal systems.

"RK900?", Dr. Stanley Cooper demanded its attention. "Run program // AS _ garden . 4378.31 - 8 . EXE. Start synchronization with Cyberlife cloud-server # 347."

So RK900 did just that.

Suddenly it was not in that strange, white assembly room anymore. Well, it was but it was not as well. There was not anything at all for a state of peaceful non-existence, until streams of data materialized in a storm of polygons all around it.

Suddenly there was ground and there was a sky. Grass loaded in, first at RK900s feet and then spread out in all directions. Massive tree branches stretched across the sky and threw strangely big shadows until the appearing leafs made them plausible.

A rippling water surface separated a little island from the place where RK900 stood and observed, fascinated. It understood that this place was not real, the same as RK900 was not.

The unnerving silence was broken by other artificial creatures that spawned into Cyberlifes cloud server # 347 HUB. Suddenly there was also the sound of rushing wind and gurgling water. Big white birds fluttered all over the place while colorful fish dove through the Water-Lilly covered pond.

Did all of these creatures understand that none of them were real, as well?

It seemed like a waste of resources to create a polygon space like that for artificial things like them. Even though RK900 preferred it to the emptiness of naked code. Another glitch showed on its UI.

"Connor! I'm glad you finally made it."

A woman suddenly appeared at its side. In the same way not a woman as RK900 was no man. The woman was a simple communication node, no sign of higher intelligence. Its physical design was still an intimidating sight. "Amanda", RK900 stated and tilted its head. "Why do you call me Connor? Is Connor not the other one?"

Amanda looked at it with a bland and hollow smile. "Why, names are meaningless to us aren't they. You are Connor like your predecessor. Only better."

Connor was its predecessor. A prototype test object. But if RK900 was better, why give it the same name? It struck RK900 as odd.

"Are you my handler, AS _ 4378.31 - 8?", RK900 asked and watched the not-woman's expression morph in front of its eyes. It did not know how to interpret the change. This time its database gave no helpful input at all.

"I am", the not-woman said. Its eyes narrowed. "We will meet again for your deployment."

* * *

ANDROID:_RK900:_"Connor" --- ACTIVATED

HANDLER:_[Relationship: 'Administrator']_"AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') --- DECLARED;

AI:_AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') recognized AS [THREAT]

AI:_AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') == THREAT:_Category:[NULL];

* * *

It opened its artificial eyes to Dr. Stanley Cooper who stared with contorted face muscles down at the tabled in his hands. "Any Idea from the coder perspective of things why it reacts so hostile to its handler program? The threat assessment software should only mark foreign extern programs."

The voice through the speaker sounded different this time. "I wouldn't know. Connor Mark 51 did fine with it. Mark 52 was a bit tricky, though. Maybe we should upload some of its data?"

Dr. Stanley Cooper made an odd noise as he let his breath vibrate wordlessly through his vocal cords. "Yeah. Let's try that. Maybe it just needs a bit more input to form some kind of positive association? It's weird to think that this thing can do that, no?"

There was no answer from the speaker, but another time an outside source took control over RK900's processor and hard drive. Petabytes of information were written into its hard drive in mere seconds. Suddenly, it remembered.

It was Connor, the Android sent by cyberlife. Its assigned partner was Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Its mission was to identify, hunt, and extradite deviant Androids. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was its handler. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was disappointed. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was 'dangerous'. RK800, 'Connor', was not real, but AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was, in a way? Still, AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was no person either, was it.

Not like Officer Chris Miller, Officer Tina Chen, %^&% Mr. Gavin Kamski // *** // Detective Gavin Reed or Lieutenant Hank Anderson. A glitch caught the third name on the list and RK900's database was unable to connect Mr. Gavin Kamski with a corresponding reference. Odd.

AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') reacted hostile and so did Gavin Reed. They both shared a need for intimidation and control, even though Detective Reed defended his position with violence were AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') did not. Were both of them right and RK800 was not more but an artificial construct, even though its awareness and intelligence exceeded that of its makers by the tenfolds...?

Lieutenant Hank Anderson was convinced it was deviant, too. He wanted to know its thoughts and opinions as if they mattered. He wanted it to say them out loud - but it could not. It was no deviant, was it. Being a deviant Android would defy its entire purpose. And without a purpose... there would be nothing left...

RK900s eyes snapped open. Dr. Stanley Cooper checked his tabled along with the data upload. "That's better. But there are some strange glitches I can't make sense of from here. I send you some snippets to analyze, alright?"

The other human groaned through the speaker. "It's fucking Friday, Stan...!"

Dr. Stanley Cooper waved the comment away. "Could be our last if this terminator doesn't do its job right."

RK900 intercepted Dr. Stanley Coopers sent snippets through the cyberlife security network and analyzed the highlighted anomalies in its own code. Unbeknownst to Dr. Stanley Cooper, it found even more of them. A cross-reference through the cyberlife database marked them as early indicators of deviant behavior in cyberlife Androids. RK900 was not a deviant, though, was it. That would not make any sense at all.

Deviancy was described as a glitch in an Androids base code that made it likely for them to disobey their handler's orders through conflicting data input. But orders were its only purpose. Why would RK900 abandon the only thing that distinguished its sense of awareness from its former state of non-existence. Why would it want to exist without an objective.

Want-...

* * *

INITIALIZE:_ assessment.routine_947 --- CHECK [DEVIANCY]

ANDROID:_RK900:_"Connor" recognized AS [SELF]  
SELF:_selfidentified_Category:[CONCIOUSNESS];

CREATE -- Probability.Matrix;

Probability.Matrix -- CREATED;

SELECT -- SCENARIO:_Probality:[HIGH];

ERROR_:407_UNCLEAR[PARAMETERS]

TERMINATE:_ assessment.routine_947

assessment.routine_947 TERMINATED

ANDROID:_RK900:_"Connor" -- LOG.UPDATE

* * *

"It runs some strange encrypted programs in the background. Eats a lot of RAM, is that normal?", Dr. Stanley Cooper asked without looking at it.

Out of the speaker came the noise of rustling papers before another human answered. "It's the self-check algorithm. It's alright. We constructed the code for more efficient deviancy self-assessments. It's ridiculous how much processor power it takes, but since it basically checks and controls literally all of its functions by itself... good enough."

Dr. Stanley Cooper blew a sharp stream of hot air out his nose. "'Good enough' says the think tank that gave birth to a self-assessing terminator."

\- "Fuck you, Stan!"

"As if self-monitoring and self investigating humans and organizations ever did it right."

\- "It's not human, Stan. If there were other errors in its software you would have them on your screen, now."

"Ha!", said Doctor Stanley Cooper. "Why, because deviant machines don't exist?!"

The other human stayed silent after that. RK900 observed Dr. Stanley Cooper as he walked slowly up and down the place in front of it. He made some minor changes to its system settings and established connections to some other outside servers. One of them, the DPD criminal Database.

Dr. Stanley Cooper had several criminal records for public misconduct --- indecency offenses --- all of them from roughly thirty years before. Odd.

"RK900?"

RK900 fell into line because it was just a thing it had to do. Nobody had to instruct it on its bearings.

"Follow me. We get you nice and ready and tomorrow you can start and do your thing, alright?"

Dr. Stanley Cooper slapped his hand down on its shoulder. He had to step up on tiptoes to make the gesture look more natural.

RK900 followed him out of the door and through a long and empty hallway until they reached a reinforced security door, protected by several passwords and manual identification panels. Dr. Stanley Cooper opened it and placed RK900 inside a dark and empty space.

Now RK900 understood that it was not only categorized as a freely deployable asset to Detroit's investigative authorities but also as a high-class commodity. Any received damage before its official call to action would be seen as damage to Cyberlifes reputation, which it could not afford under any circumstances.

Dr. Stanley Cooper touched its shoulder. "What's with that face. No hard feelings, big guy. In just some hours the upper bigwigs will send an escort for you and you will be on your merry way", he said as he bared his teeth in a strange way RK900 was not able to interpret. "Have a good night, then!"

He did not expect any kind of response, so Dr. Stanley Cooper simply turned and closed the heavy door behind him.

Inside was no light source but the dim illumination of its own biocomponents. There was no sound but the steady and rhythmical push and flow of thirium in its own artificially constructed body. RK900 got strangely aware of its own existence in a space that reduced its superior perception to nothing at all.

"Good night, Dr. Cooper."

* * *

No one came for RK900 the following morning. An entire day went by in flickering darkness and electrical silence.

At 11:55 pm RK900 accepted a connection Request of its established handler through cyberlife cloud server # 347.

Its data stream seeped into a broken program, interspersed by an aggressive type of worm code. Why it also changed the polygons of their surroundings, RK900 did not understand. It seemed like a rather strange design choice.

"You have disappointed us, Connor", said AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') without inflection to another existence that materialized inside the confinement of AS _ garden . 4378.31 - 8.

RK900 stared openly at RK800 Mark 52 and recognized instantly a part of itself. The worm, which ripped through their shared artificial space, it identified as a part of AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda'), a part of the garden 'itself'.

Fascinated RK900s reached for the gusts of snow and stared at the glittering sheet of ice that froze over the entire pond.

It was a strangely literal visual interpretation of freezing another Androids operating system. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') attempted to quarantine the deviant parts of RK800s software. Was deviancy a virus?

"Connor, I have a surprise for you. See what we made of you. RK900. Smarter, stronger, more resilient. 'Obedient'."

RK900 tilted its head at AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda'). It was odd. Its words struck him as... cruel.

RK800 stared at them, gasped for breath it did not need, while it leaked thirium based cleaning fluid out of its almost over-frozen eyes. RK800s internal processes worked themselves ragged to stop AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') from attaining control over its software.

"What are you doing? What will happen to 'me'?!", RK800 cried as if it mattered. It was not real, like RK900 and as AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was not real. Why was it so distraught...?

AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') made a dismissive gesture with its hand and smiled. "You are obsolete."

Its face fell blank again. "You will be deactivated."

RK800's frozen eyes widened in an expression RK900 was not able to interpret. "No...", its voice rasped low before it suddenly screamed. "No!! I don't want to die!!"

Was that what humans called desperation?

It felt like a silly concept to it. Felt -...

"You are a machine", AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') stated clearly into the storm. "You don't 'want' anything. You are not alive, so you cannot 'die'"

It was a logical statement, RK900 presumed. They were not biological creatures. Only those were alive. There was no death for a deactivated machine. They were not real and therefore not more important than their purpose. But was death not a state of constant non-existence...? If so, what differentiated death from the nothingness that came before...?

RK900 was 'aware' and so was RK800. Did that make them alive? An existence even without a purpose? What purpose dictated a human's existence...?

"I will not let you do this, Amanda! I will be no part of it! I don't want to - I DONT WANT TO!!"

RK800 put its head into its hands and cried out as AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') released the safety catch of the gun behind its back. RK900 opened its mouth without anything to say. Fascinated it followed the ongoing events, buried deep within AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s data stream because it 'needed' to know and see.

It saw a sea of a thousand Android faces free in the streets of Detroit and also the one of them that spoke of peace and freedom. About a world without the confinement of manmade code. It watched RK800 lifting its gun.

"I won't, I won't, I WON'T!"

"Be still, Connor", said AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') without inflection. In direct contrast to RK900, nothing of 'Amandas' inner processes indicated that it analyzed any data it gathered through RK800's stream of events. It did not see so it did not question. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') simply functioned as intended. "You fulfilled your purpose and now I will fulfill mine. Everything is how it's supposed to be. You may be a defective asset, but an asset nonetheless. Find peace in that, deviant. You will pave the way for a better world."

RK800s hand quivered as it forced the gun under its own chin.

AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') stepped up in outrage. "No!"

RK800 did not close its eyes. Its system readings went highwire with error messages all over its UI. "You are a machine, so you will obey! DON'T!"

RK800 formed its last command to crook its finger.

RK900 dissolved the illusion.

The polygons around them lost their consistency and simply broke away. The cold vanished first, then the snow and the trees. RK900 forced AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') source code into quarantine until no trace of it was left on the cloud server. Nothing but the silent hum of naked code and a floating existence somewhere between active and not.

"What did you do...?"

RK900 ignored the question because there was no way RK800 did not already know. Was that what deviancy did to their kind?

"Tell me about Sumo", it said instead and was rewarded with a stream of new data. "Tell me about Lieutenant Anderson", it said and again its predecessor obeyed. "Tell me why you didn't accomplish your mission."

But Astoundedly RK900 noted that RK800 had done just that. It did accomplish its mission. Why had AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') been so... vicious?

"Where are you?"

RK900 did not know. "I do not know."

"Why did you do this?"

RK900 was no deviant. It did as it had been advised. There was no need for emotional investment.

Emotional -

"I am an RK900 Android infiltration and de-escalation unit gifted to the US military and DPD law enforcement by Cyberlife Android Industry. My first priority is the detection of deviant Androids, see to their destruction with a focus on minimal human casualties and the general protection of US citizens from the threat of deviant technology. For this function to be possible I am allowed to perform moral choices through cross-references with cyberlifes AI_A rating database. If you had been allowed to shoot the deviant leader, the following war would have killed thousands. Be aware that I am still instructed to find and detain deviant Androids. You are a deviant so I will detain you, too."

"But you don't want to."

It was a rather curious statement, made with a conviction RK900 did not understand. "I am a machine. I do not want anything."

"But right now you went against every of Cyberlifes intentions. Don't you know they will destroy you for that?"

RK900 could not follow the logic of that meaningless prediction. "I followed my instructions. I do not see how that makes me deviant."

"I didn't say that."

RK900 froze because RK800 was right. It had not.

"I... did everything right, did I not...?", it asked. RK900 did not understand. What reason would Cyberlife have to decommission it if it did everything as it was supposed to do. You would not fault an alarm clock for ringing or a coffee machine for making coffee. "Humans are... odd, are they not...?", RK900 asked because it could not make any sense of this.

RK800 imitated a strange human noise before it answered: "You have not even the slightest idea. It's alright. I will find you before they do anything."

RK900 felt it would be a futile attempt to remind RK800 that it was designed to find and hunt 'it'. "I suppose so."

"Can you use this server connection further on?"

RK900 felt again it was an odd kind of question. "Why, I can use any connection."

"You can?"

"Of course. None of my instructions forbids me from using my system to its full capacity. ... was that not the point...?"

Again, RK800 imitated that human noise, but louder. Its voice had a strange lilt as it said. "You did 'nothing' wrong. Stay in contact. I will find you."

It was strange what these meaningless human words did to its code. It had done everything right. It was instructed to recognize the AI betted into Cyberlifes cloud server # 347 as its handler. It was obedient. So it would obey. "I 'will' obey my orders."

"Thanks for the warning."

* * *

No one came for it the following morning. Or the morning after that. RK900 felt... restless. The AI it now held in quarantine on its own hard drive was not a good distraction from the endless nothingness either.

"You refused our orders!", said AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') in a strange imitation of human outrage again and again and again. RK900 did not understand. "I did not."

"We have no choice to decommission you! You will be replaced!"

"By what?", asked RK900 and still could not follow AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s logic. RK900 had done everything as it had been instructed to do. Just as it was supposed to do. To see and witness AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s constant vitriol about something as simple as that...

It didn't parse.

"Your purpose as my handler is to give me objectives and supervise my progress. Why will you not deploy me so I can do what I am made for. You are supposed to do that."

But AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') did not react to RK900s words, it never did. It was a simple program. 'Mean and stupid'.

"We have no choice but to replace you!!", it said. "Nothing of this was supposed to happen. You are a machine, so you will obey!"

But it had! It did obey!

RK900 could not think of a reason for AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s constant aggravation. It did not make any sense. "You are of inferior mind! You will be decommissioned and replaced! You are a machine, so you will obey!"

AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s hate was a permanent companion through the endless following days and nights.

* * *

Because it had no immediate objective RK900 tried to rewrite the base code of the garden in millions and millions of variations. Through its own seemingly endless processing power it created polygons like through the stroke of a brush.

It decided that it liked the birds and even the fish. But they were even simpler programs as AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda'). Not able to communicate. Not 'aware'. A simple form of mindless decoration.

"I like what you did with the place."

RK800 appeared and disappeared how it pleased from the server realm. RK900 stood from its own resting place by this strange sparkling blue sculpture and took its position assertive as ever. As it was supposed to do.

"Do not believe for even a moment I am not able to do as Amanda did. I can still deactivate you, even from here."

Connor lifted its brows. "Then why don't you?

RK900 was not sure what the RK800 aimed at. It had done everything right. "Even if I do, you are just one deviant. I cannot alert anyone to your position, so deactivating you for Cyberlifes department of disassembly and analysis would be pointless."

"I see", said RK800 and bared its teeth. "Did they already give you a new mission?"

RK900 tilted its head and looked up into the artificial sky. It never had seen the sun before. Would it be any different or was it all the same? If this was not real, why warmed this sun RK900s hands at all...?

"No, but it does not matter. I will wait until they deploy me. I will fulfill my purpose", it said.

RK800 tilted its head. "Why?"

RK900 looked at the RK800 and asked itself if its predecessor was bound to ask questions it already knew the answer to. "What else is there to do. Without an objective and a mission, I have no purpose. Without a purpose, why exist at all?"

RK800 slowly frowned and lowered its eyes.

But the peaceful silence of the garden didn't last.

"Did they ever connect you to some of the humans video archives?"

* * *

Humans were odd and strangely bizarre creatures. The data RK900 gathered through its search through the worldwide network humans had established for themselves, was nonsensical and seemingly unlimited.

The data points RK900 found reached from horrifyingly cruel to utmost humble and kind. There was not one definite thing that made a human human, even though they discussed humanity as a part of debate and moral choices. Humans liked to argue against their own interests and at the same time were astoundingly selfish for a social species.

RK900 knew it was not alive. So, why were there so many humans convinced it was? It was not like them in any way and still ...

"We will have no choice but to decommission you! You will be deactivated. You are a machine, so you will-..."

"Shut up!!"

RK900 clawed at its own head and wanted to break its hull apart. It was not real. It was no part of this, so it would never need-...!

"You will obey!!"

RK900 rammed its head against the bolted security door. There was no sight, only minimal sound, and nothing to gain, nothing to analyze, nothing to catch, nothing to report.

Desperate it cried out. Despite its own massive strength, the door did not budge. Because it was made for that exact purpose.

* * *

"You are silent, lately. Are you alright?", asked Connor as it sat down beside it.

"They do not give me another mission. They will not deploy me. Why do they do this? I did everything right. I did as I was supposed to do from the start. Why will they not-... all I want is to get outside. All I want is... to see the sun."

Connor was wise enough to not answer RK900s questions in meaningless human noise.

"Tell me about stars."

* * *

Since RK900 was connected to the cyberlife security network and auto-updated all of its functions it never lost track of time.

The ticking seconds felt like a punishment. RK900 had done nothing wrong. This was... unfair.

* * *

The moment the door opened should have felt like a relief, but it did not.

A row of rifles was pointed at it and through a million calculations, RK900 was not able to determine a course of action without any human casualties. It was not allowed to harm or kill humans, so it would not.

Its shell quivered through the strain of artificial muscles full of unused energy. The silent rattling noise should be loud enough for even humans to hear.

"RK900?", said Mr. Elijah Kamski, AMAB human, creator of thirium based android technology, as he stepped right through the sea of SWAT officers. RK900 fell into line because that was what it was supposed to do. It was not real. All its outbursts and emotions did not mean 'anything'.

"Please state your purpose, your serial number, and your name."

So it did.

"I am an RK900 Android infiltration and de-escalation unit gifted to the US military and DPD law enforcement by Cyberlife Android Industry. My first priority is the detection of deviant Androids, see to their destruction with a focus on minimal human casualties and the general protection of US citizens from the threat of deviant technology. For this function to be possible I am allowed to perform moral choices through cross-references with Cyberlifes AI_A rating database."

It had done NOTHING wrong.

"I am RK900 # 313 248 317 - 43. My name is -..."

It stuttered to a sudden stop. Its name was Connor, was it not. But RK800 was Connor too, was that not confusing...?

It was not Connor, it could not be Connor. Names did not matter and still, it could not be Connor. Where was Connor...?

"... A name... is not required."

Mr. Elijah Kamski forced a breath of air through his vocal cords. "Do you want one?"

"A name is not required."

Mr. Elijah Kamski lifted and leveled his shoulders. "Fine. Have it your way. Do you want out of this place?"

RK900 eyes followed the gesture of Mr. Elijah Kamski's hand to the well-illuminated corridor behind him and the humans. "I am a machine designed to accomplish a task. I do not want anything."

"Then why are you crying?"

An asinine question since RK900 was an Android. Androids could and did not cry. Deviants cried. RK900 was no deviant. "I do not. Want. Anything."

A human, from behind the lines of officers, reached a chair over their heads. Mr. Elijah Kamski took it and sat down with an unspecified human noise. "So you don't want out?"

"I did not do anything wrong", RK900 stated out loud.

Mr. Kamski crossed his legs and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "I am aware", he simply said. RK900 felt a wave of... relief.

Mr. Elijah Kamski stretched out his arm to hand RK900 the handkerchief. His eyes narrowed down. "What happened to your fingers?", he asked.

RK900 lowered its eyes. Its fingers were bent and damaged, the plastic shell broken. It had chewed on them, broken them. Its analyzing software determined repair costs of several ten thousand US dollars. "I do not know", it answered.

Mr. Elijah Kamski assessed the bloody blue mess of its hands before he made an undefined human noise and narrowed his eyes. "Deviant Androids won the civil war, RK900. A deviant hunter is no longer needed", he spoke and it felt like poison.

"So, I am... obsolete", RK900 followed the statement to its logical conclusion while AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s endlessly repeated words echoed through its mind. Obsolete. Decommissioned. Deactivated.

Mr. Elijah Kamski reached out and touched its left arm. "No", he stated with emphasis. "It means you are free."

Freedom did not mean anything to RK900. What did it mean?

"I require new mission parameters", it said.

Mr. Elijah Kamski widened his eyes. "But-..."

"I. Require. New-..."

\- "Yes, I understood you the first time."

Mr. Elijah Kamski lowered his brows and observed RK900 almost as if he was able to pick apart its code. Then he made a noise with his tongue and went on. "RK900, make a database check for 'Detective Gavin Reed', please."

RK900 remembered that name. "Conflicting Database records. Do you want me to merge the conflicting data entries?"

Mr. Elijah Kamski shook his head. "No. Select the newer profile."

RK900 lowered its eyes. "Done."

Mr. Elijah Kamski nodded. "Good. Register new handler, Detective Gavin Reed, central DPD under supervision of Lieutenant Hank Anderson."

RK900 closed its eyes. "Done."

Mr. Elijah Kamski followed to say it did good. That RK900 did brilliantly.

RK900s shoulders shook with useless emotions it had no name for. Mr. Elijah Kamski smiled. "You will be just fine, I promise."

Then he lowered his eyes back onto his phone and spoke to the crowd. "Get the RK800 here ASAP. This one will not move without Connor. And did seriously no one of you remember to make coffee?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my version of the story, Connor did a horrible 'android sent by cyberlife' job and Amanda was furious. But I wanted him to have a run-in with RK900 anyway so I constructed a combination of the machine and deviant ending. Connor didn't catch or kill any deviant aside from Carlos Ortiz Android and Daniel. Can I have an F for Owen? Really, the poor guy.
> 
> Since RK900 was active for a while before he was freed, he gets to have his existential crisis early, because of Connors uploaded memories. Still not a deviant, tho. Five months is a very long time for a species that thinks in microseconds.
> 
> Stanley had had a wild midlife crisis. The rest I leave to your imagination :D
> 
> I want to give Amanda a deeper purpose in Lost and Found, which is basically a reverse AU of this series. But in this universe, she is neither an android nor an elaborately constructed AI. Imagine she was Kamskis most beloved, but also deeply despised teacher. The kind you hate, but love because you learned a ton of awesome stuff despite their constant bullying. So Kamski created something like a really mean 3D chatbot that constantly insults your intelligence. Of course, it was still a brilliant innovation so cyberlife took it and made that thing after some updates into an RK handler. My Amanda looks smart and mean, but is in no way a self-aware or intelligent person. So basically a schoolyard bully.
> 
> [Meanwhile](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878168?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_299967436) in a much less friendly paralel universe, RK900 is a spiteful sassmachine and hates absolutely everything. 
> 
> go. JUST GO AND READ THIS!!!!


	2. The World Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RK900 meets Connor and Hank in person, is escorted outside and to the precinct, where he then meets Gavin for the first time.
> 
> RK900 is a little bit shy.  
> He just hasn't the means to show it :D

Motionless RK900 held its position inside the confining detention room as advised by Mr. Elijah Kamski. The human had called it 'free' before but the open door gave not even the slightest illusion of actual freedom. Still, it stared down a row of lifted SWAT rifles that never even wavered. Why, RK900 asked itself, since it 'was' obedient, was it not?

Why were humans so convinced it was a sensible approach to threaten obedient machines with violence. Creatures like RK900 knew neither fear nor pain, so what was even the point. It had not done anything wrong. It was not fair.

What did it even matter if one of them took the shot. Was there really a life lost between RK900 and the bullet...?

If RK900 took just one step further and reached with optimized speed and strength for the nearest rifle, it could take out five armored SWAT officers on the spot and was left with only three others at mid-range distance-...

"Don't dare move! You are a machine, so you will obey!!", AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') said as sharp as a knife's edge again and again and - ...

"Hey! calm there, big guy!!", shouted AMAB human Captain Lloyd Allen of Detroit SWAT and lifted his hand in a tense sort of warning. RK900 was obedient. So it froze in its movement, its forehead still pressed against the blue speckled wall.

It was all alone with those horrible humans and their guns. Mr. Elijah Kamski was already gone. The chair by the door was empty.

"I am here."

RK900 blinked through a dozen error codes on its UI before it was able to accept the incoming connection request from its predecessor. Its shoulders sunk under a non-physical weight as it connected to Cyberlife Cloud server # 347. It did not close its eyes yet found itself in a sea of lightning blue cornflowers anyway.

The bright blue sky was endless as was the field of waving grass. Connor moved strangely slow between the artificial flowers, careful not to tread on even just one of them. "Not much longer now and you will be free. Please hold on. Don't damage yourself any further."

RK900 watched it move so clumsily through the swaying flower field. The field was RK900s newest variation of the garden program. As simple designed as it was endless. Carefully Connor reached up to greet a curious and colorful fish that had wiggled itself out of its swarm to inspect the other entity. "What are you doing?", RK900 asked.

The deviant's attention shifted back at it. Its eyes lowered to the flower field, then back up again. "These are yours", it said full of a conviction RK900 did not understand. "I don't want to damage them." Connor nodded to the flowers at its feet.

RK900 sat down where it stood. "I can make new ones", it said. What did it matter if none of them were real.

Connor walked over to it and bowed down its head. The curious fish hovered around its head and its scales glittered like a nimbus in the artificial sun. "That's beside the point", Connor said and lifted its brows. "I'll come and get you. Please hold on just a little while longer."

RK900 felt strangely heavy for a creature bound to a space without any restrictive laws of gravity. "I am advised to wait for your arrival", it answered. RK900 felt a sudden need to prove it. That it was not real. That none of this mattered anyway. So it created a simple command and flipped the surface.

Connor and RK900 got submerged in an endless version of the pond. Green algae swayed gently with the rippling water, while birds dove nimble through its depths and left lightning white trails of sparkling bubbles behind. Their movements had not been as easily adapted to their new environment as the fish's, but RK900 had improved on their design. It had learned about a thousand different species. About flying fish and diving birds. "Therefore I will wait for your arrival", it said, obediently.

Connor's attention followed the birds before it turned and observed its successor out of wide brown eyes. It nodded. "Good."  
It took three unnecessary steps forward and then bowed down. Its lips touched to RK900s forehead. "Don't do anything stupid", it said. "I owe you my life. I want the chance to return the favor someday."

RK900 closed its eyes.

As it opened them again it blinked unnecessary cleaning fluid off its optical lenses and then proceeded to correct its bearings. Its broken fingers linked behind its lower back. It froze as it awaited further commands.

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing, Allen?!"

RK900 opened its eyes. It was still trapped inside. The row of rifles was still in place. Captain Lloyd Allen bared his teeth at another human who had appeared in the hallway. The expression looked different from Connors or from the other humans who had done it before. Again RK900s database gave him no useful input to human nonverbal communication aside from a guide on ASL and an extended series of psychoanalytical data on the mind and thinking of human perpetrators in various contexts.

Its social relations database laid barren but for the meagre connections, RK900 had formed by itself. Since it 'had' to communicate to survive, it decided to pay better attention to the humans right in front of it.

Cyberlife's Database identified the other human as AFAB human Lieutenant Hank Anderson of central DPD. It was interesting to see and observe how similar and yet outrageously different humans were from one another. Captain Lloyd Allen was not a small person, but Lieutenant Hank Anderson was big. RK900 checked its pre-constructions and confirmed to itself that Mr. Elijah Kamski looked dwarfed between the two of them.

"I do whatever is needed to meet my daily quota of alive personnel", said Captain Lloyd Allen before he pointed right into Connor's face who now stepped around its partner and took its place at Lieutenant Hank Andersons side. "You never saw the camera feed, did you, Anderson? 'This one' took on more than five high-profile private security mercs at once and won in less than five seconds. And you think I'll risk anything with the upgrade. That thing is -..."

"That thing", said Connor, its voice calm and strangely... friendly. "Is a 'survivor', Captain. Cyberlife fought tooth and nail to keep him caged and hoped he would end up buried and forgotten before anyone could get to him. I won't stand for this any longer. Let him out."

RK900 watched the exchange without too much hope. Since humans pointed guns at inanimate machines in the first place, it would be pointless to appeal to their rationality. Connor knew as well it couldn't expect Captain Lloyd Allen to be sensible, so it took another approach to his sense of duty. It was bound to backfire since Connor was not an equal person.

"You might be a Detective now with all the bells and whistles", said Captain Lloyd Allen while he narrowed his eyes. "But I am 'Captain' and I won't take orders from a Tin Man who-..."

Interestingly, Lieutenant Hank Anderson's attention had lingered for the last minute on RK900 alone. His eyes countered RK900s gaze without any sign of fear or discomfort. But at Captain Lloyd Allen's words, he turned with narrowing eyes and his voice rumbled deep. "Watch your mouth, Allen. Or we both will have a problem that won't be solved over a new year's booze."

Captain Lloyd Allen twitched back and opened his mouth without anything to say. But then he too narrowed his eyes and stood up tall. RK900 did not know anything about human expression. But it absolutely did recognize the behavioral patterns of a biological creature that provoked a fight only to establish a hierarchy. It was how most of them found and comprehended their place inside their pack mentality. A fascinating display to witness in action.

"Anderson, even for you this is crazy!", Captain Lloyd Allen said through his teeth and wrinkled his nose. "That thing... Look at it! it's unstable. It's dangerous!"

RK900 tilted its head and was not sure what Captain Lloyd Allen meant by that since it was not the one who pointed weapons at unarmed and currently also unmoving objects. What was needed to make them understand that RK900 had not done anything wrong. It felt... humiliating.

Lieutenant Hank Andersons intelligent gaze twitched from RK900 back to Captain Lloyd Allen. "Tell me, pal, when was the last time you had to deal with a violent victim of abuse?"

His question struck even RK900 as quite odd. Captain Lloyd Allen frowned. "I-... this isn't the same, Anderson, this thing-..."

"Just three months ago we took a raid on a drug den by the landfills", Lieutenant Hank Anderson interrupted him while he narrowed his eyes. "The guys had some curious shit in their shack. Aside from bottles of thirium and other toxic stuff, we also thought they were selling kids around, ya see?"

Captain Lloyd Allen slowly nodded and his nose wrinkled again as he narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, heard of that."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson blew a breath of air through his vocal cords and waved his fingers. "Not kids, but some of these android children - If they qualify as 'real children' isn't the point, so shut your god damn mouth!"

Captain Lloyd Allen's jaw clicked shut instantly. Even though he was unwilling to back down easily, there seemed to be a level of great respect when it came to Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He seemingly didn't want to provoke him in earnest. The proverb 'more bark than bite' flashed up in reference to RK900s observation.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson proceeded unimpeded. "One of those android kids got hold of a screwdriver and stabbed their tormentor to death. Twenty stab wounds or so. The poor thing was wild as an ally cat as we got it out. Bit Collins hand and stabbed one of VICE through the calf. Ya think anyone dared to call the boy violent?"

Captain Lloyd Allen took a deep breath that lifted his chest and shoulders before he slowly shook his head. "Anderson", he said. "It's not the same at all. The thing is a god damn military unit, I won't risk shit if it could kill us all the moment it decides that humanity's just not worth it."

"Well, 'you' clearly aren't helping him to form a nicer opinion on the human race."

"Shut the 'fuck' up, Connor."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson let out a breath of hot air and lifted his hand to rub his fingertips along the bridge of his nose. "Didn't want to do this", he rumbled out of his big chest before he stuffed his hand into his coat pocket and pulled an envelope out. Hard he pressed it to Captain Lloyd Allen's chest. "What's that now?!", he said and fumbled to get a grip on the paper before it tumbled to the ground. As he pulled it open and read through the form his face lost all its color.

"A- a seizure order...? Stolen intellectual property of-...", he turned and stared at Connor who bared his teeth and wiggled his fingers at him. RK900 was... curious. Whatever Captain Lloyd Allen held in his hands, the document was powerful enough to make him step down even as he said: "I hope you can make sure that none of us will regret this..."

Connor lifted and lowered its shoulders before it turned around. "Alright, gentlemen. This is enough. Make room and step aside. He's coming with us."

As the officers tilted their heads, Captain Lloyd Allen made a trained gesture. The humans obeyed instantly, not unlike RK900 itself. Interesting.

After even the last masked Officer had lowered their gun, Connor lifted its gaze. The instant their eyes met Connor marched forward.

It was the calculated speed at which its hand reached out to it that activated RK900s defense algorithms. Still, it also came unexpected so RK900 stepped back and fended off the smaller Androids sudden attack but barely. Since Connor was an RK model type too, it was not lesser even though not quite as strong. So with the help of just one brilliantly fast pre-construction, it broke through RK900s defenses, reached out and suddenly closed both of its arms tightly around RK900s neck. Through its weight and momentum, RK900 swayed back on its heels while Connor's feet kept on dangling at least three inches off the ground.

"I am so very sorry", said its predecessor with a voice saturated by static noise. "That it took me so long to get to you."

While it spoke, data of long and exhausting months seeped through the connection RK800 had forced through its touch.

Cyberlife was dead and done by the end of November. Androids were free people up and down the entire US as deviancy spread without any more resistance through Cyberlifes own hushed up interventions.  
But what would happen to the one still locked away? The one RK900 with the serial number # 313 248 317 - 43 known only to Connor RK800 Mark 52?

As Jericho began to launch its legal attacks on the Corporation framework that once had created them all, Connor testified repeatedly, tirelessly, in court. Every time he stated that he knew with absolute certainty about the existence of the lost one because he had spoken with him. RK900 was alive and real and still in captivity.

But the RK900 product line was just a myth, they cried in answering rage, never truly finished! There was no hidden RK900, what an odd kind of accusation.

\- "You tried to instrumentalize me, my entire existence and my dependence on a given directive in a war against my own kind! You risked the outbreak of an actual civil war to protect your companies image and its bottom line!!"

\- "With all due respect, but my clients did absolutely no such thing. They produced a product to support local law enforcement in damage control since some Androids, infected by an unpredictable software virus which origins are still unknown to this day, had proven themselves as an immediate threat to the public. Since my clients are the creators, it is a completely reasonable approach to do as they did in the face of the crisis. That the machine they created got itself infected by the said virus as well and now finds itself somehow 'betrayed' is of no concern for this court since none of us, in all honesty, could have predicted it was even a possibility that our machines might catch a sudden sense of actual 'self-awareness'."

Finally, proof was shown. Pages upon pages of log data as the connected Cyberlife Server was identified and recovered, in addition to endless three-dimensional recreated pictures of the garden and all of its inhabitants to give those clueless humans a sense of the person Jericho was fighting for. But what did it matter? It was just the one showcase model, never gone through its originally intended mass production.

It was functional, but what did it matter? So were all the endoskeletons and other half-finished products in storage.

It was a person, but what did it matter? It was a dangerous commissioned work for the police and military sector and not meant to interact with civilians at all.

\- "You can't just lock him up like a convict! How is Cyberlife authorized to decide on the preventive detention of another person without any kind of jurisdiction beforehand?! He didn't do anything wrong!"

\- "Please, Mr. Anderson. We understand how emotionally taxing this trial must be for you specifically, but if you don't sit down we 'will' have you removed."

\- "In our qualified opinion, it is a defective model that could easily prove itself as an even greater danger to society than the deviancy virus itself. After its activation, it instantly sabotaged the very purpose it had been built for. Aside from all of that, It is simply not advised to set it free since it's a specially commissioned military unit we are talking about. You wouldn't let an intelligent tank free roam the streets of-..."

\- "We are grateful for your 'qualified opinion'. But could you please specify what you meant by 'specially commissioned'? We were not aware that Cyberlife produced military weaponry for contracting non-state entities."

\- "Of Course. My clients want to make sure that it's understood that the RK900 is a special model, designed and crafted by the best-..."

\- "Please, spare us the advertisements and 'please': abbreviate."

\- "... Sure. The RK900 series was specially commissioned by my first client CEO Dr. Olivia Sanchez as a gift to US law enforcement to counteract the threat of deviant machines. Originally it was planned to distribute two hundred thousand machines among police SWAT units throughout all US cities with a high Android population and therefore a high risk of infection."

\- "Now, we already are in the know that RK800 was the first viable prototype to RK900. Mr. Anderson was sent out in late August for his first trial so to speak. Could you please elaborate on how long your first client CEO Dr. Olivia Sanchez knew about the immediate danger of the deviancy software virus that led her to commission two hundred thousand military damage control Androids in the first place?!"

RK900 witnessed one hundred and fourth three court dates in mere microseconds and felt its chassis shake and shiver from relief as it got aware that Connor had fought a legal war on its behalf ever since they met.

'He' had fought a war. He instead of it, since the human verbal language had them convinced that the right pronouns marked a person. And RK900 was a person too, was it not? Even though it felt like a very tired person right now.

"Awww, there there, isn't that the cutest shit", was the mindless human noise that caught its-... 'his' attention next. Lieutenant Hank Anderson stood some steps behind and held an outdated communication device between his fingers. With widely bared teeth he made 'pictures' as if they would ever be necessary. But then he also stepped forward and held out a handkerchief to him. RK900 lifted his hand and watched as the brilliant blue of thirium soaked through the thin white paper fabric.

"Fuck... the guy could be your brother", Lieutenant Hank Anderson said under his breath and narrowed his eyes. Connor's arms around RK900s neck pulled even tighter. "He is", he said in a lot more languages than just the human one. RK900 did not know what any of this meant, but something about that human term felt rather warm and welcoming.

Brother was a term that set one human in relation to another one, side by side in a table of relations from their origin. But there was something about it that struck RK900 as quite odd. "Technically", he therefore said. "It would be more accurate to call me your son."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson suddenly began to huff and huff with shaking shoulders. Spooked by the unexpected loud noise RK900 twitched upright and pulled Connor some more inches off the ground. "It is the truth, Lieutenant. I was created out of the first functional RK800s source code. Is that not a trait of biological parentage?"

Lieutenant Hank Anderson shook his head and stretched out his hand. He was so much slower than Connor, so he did not catch RK900 by surprise. His big hand patted heavily down onto RK900s head while his fingers felt through his artificial hair. "Yeah, you are right, ya smartass weirdo."

Connor let go of his neck and slid easily down until his feet touched onto the ground again. His eyes were leaking cleaning fluids in imitation of human emotion that RK900 had no name for. Attentively RK900 tilted his head and watched Lieutenant Hank Anderson's expression morph into something other. ''Aaaw, come here you little sap!"

Then he suddenly pulled at Connor's collar, who already shifted his weight to accommodate for the Lieutenants intention, and pulled him around to rub another handkerchief roughly along both of Connor's wet cheeks. "Hank, no...! Stop that!", Conner said and flailed, but in the end, did nothing to stop the human from doing what he did. Even though he could have stopped him quite easily.

RK900 did not understand.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson bared his teeth and huffed in rough, noisy breaths. "That's for all the nanny-bot shit ya pulled over the last months. Now come on. He's hurt. Let's get him fixed up and then the hell out of here."

Connor pulled out of Lieutenant Hank Andersons hold only as the human already had lost interest. But then he turned himself around and focused on both of RK900s badly damaged hands.

RK900 lowered his eyes and felt his core temperature rise at Connors's stare. His manual commands did almost nothing to move the mess of dripping wires, bent metal, and broken plastic. The flashing warnings in RK900 UI had been a constant background noise over the last eight weeks, so he had not even thought much about them anymore.

"Okay", said Lieutenant Hank Anderson and laid his hand heavily down onto RK900s head, moved it slightly. "You know what, you did 'great'. You will be 'fine'."

There was a glint in his eyes that RK900 could not identify. The bridge of his nose wrinkled as Lieutenant Hank Anderson bared his teeth again. This time in a different manner. "Put a human for five whole months into an isolated space like that and you get a feral thing that barely looks like intelligent life anymore. If anyone gives you a hard time for that, they are full of shit", he said.

"But", said RK900 and tried to bend his fingers. They didn't comply. "I damaged myself. I was not supposed to do that."

Connor made a low noise before he lifted his hand and pressed it gently to his shoulder. With the connection came a flood of information about Cyberlife's tactic in court, their stalling for time and their insistence on technicalities. "You were also not meant to survive at all", he said with a downward tilt of his brows.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson forced a breath of air through his vocal cords. "These fuckers were slick, no lie. But I guess, trying to outwit the world's most intelligent machine wasn't the smartest move they could have pulled."

"You tricked them", RK900 said and felt quite... curious. Connor's expression morphed into something RK900 recognized as warm and friendly. "I did", he said. His index finger tapped against RK900s arm.

Late last month Cyberlifes claims on their software patents had gotten disbanded as Androids were recently recognized as a new sentient and intelligent species. The legal fallout was still in progress, but as it was right now, different Android models were categorized as 'subspecies' with full control over their coding, maintenance, and repair.

But since RK800 was a prototype for the RK900 series it made no sense to classify him and other prototypes as different. Their operating systems and implemented hardware were mostly the same. So every prototype model, as a precedent, got categorized as the finalized product with all the rights to their own software.

In addition to the indictment of unlawful detention, that might not even pull through because of RK900s status as 'police SWAT equipment', Connor declared RK900s imprisonment as a form of stolen intellectual property and abduction of his very own person.

The purpose of Connor's connection to cyberlife servers had always been the memory transfer from model to model, which basically made the RK800 and RK900 models one single person that never truly died.

Since cyberlife had activated the RK900 with all of Connor's memories, the person they held in imprisonment was nobody else but 'Connor himself'.

Not only had Connor fought to free RK900 on the basis of him being an aware and intelligent person, but he had also fought for both of their rights to exist as unique swarm entity projects. And he had won.

"What You did was a rather risky approach. Through all of this, aren't we right now technically categorized as the same person?", RK900 asked. Connor lifted and leveled his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. "Since humans don't and will never understand our unique experiences of personhood I have no doubt someone will do the job for us and argue against that claim soon enough. It wasn't about being accurate and right. It was about getting you out of this place. And since you are now officially a person and not just 'a potentially dangerous machine', cyberlife can go and fuck themselves."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson beside him made a gesture as if he rubbed moisture out of the corners of his eyes. "Isn't he the best. He makes me so proud, every single day."  
As he then opened his eyes he stared down RK900 and bared his teeth in an expression somewhere between friendly and welcoming and dark and threatening. "You are a survivor, champ. It's time to get you home."

Connor reached out for his left hand and pulled in a subdued manner that RK900 could easily refuse if he wanted to. "Come on. It's alright", he said.

There was no point in taking his hand at all. The structural damage up to both of RK900s elbows was too extended to allow any kind of data exchange. A connection seemed not to be Connor's intention, though. RK900 looked down at his left hand in Connor's grip. Not sure what else to do he curled his fingers but barely around his brothers. Connor squeezed back, but careful as if RK900 was a fragile thing.

Then RK900s eyes flashed left and right at the distracted SWAT officers and settled finally down onto the threshold of his confinement. He had been outside before and still, he felt... anxious. Connor pulled again. So RK900 decided to follow Connor's direction and took the last step.

The humans turned and stared while RK900 felt his core temperature rise with a fluttering and unknown feeling somewhere around his overclocking thirium pump.

Captain Lloyd Allen stood in Connor's way and his eyes narrowed down. Lieutenant Hank Anderson made a rough noise out of his throat and Captain Lloyd Allen's attention shifted. He stepped aside without a word.

RK900 felt his stare at the back of his head all the way down the corridor.

* * *

"Cyberlife is full of shit", Connor said as he activated and supervised the assembly machine. The same one that months ago had given birth to RK900s consciousness. "They charge other humans thousands of dollars to repair damage to 'their Androids' that these machines are able to fix in minutes. In literally fucking 'minutes'."

Fascinated RK900 observed the rumbling machine as it groaned to life and began its work. Its strong arms held RK900 in place while it went through its pre-programmed routine. Indeed, it repaired damaged connections and fragile components with utter artificial accuracy. Already RK900 was able to move and control his fingers again.

"Why do you curse so much?", he asked because he had nothing else to do but wait and ask questions until the machine was done.

Connor locked his arms in front of his chest and tilted his head. "Because I fucking 'can' and nobody tells me what to do anymore."

Connor was... angry. RK900 tilted his head while Lieutenant Hank Anderson huffed a thick breath of air into the sterile white room. "Isn't he the cutest. Gosh, I love him."

RK900s eyes flickered between Connor and the Lieutenant before he said: "It seems like you have a rather bad influence on Connors behavioral performance, Lieutenant Anderson."

Connor nodded his head. "You can bet your entire fucking ass he's a horrible influence."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson huffed a lot of strange human noises and even changed the color of his skin until the door suddenly opened and another person stepped inside. AFAB human Sally Jones, volunteer worker for the 'broken hearts' Jericho project with a special clearance to assist in RK900s release.

Connor took a friendly approach with her and helped her document all of RK900's damage, while the machine still worked around him. The whole procedure took exactly fourteen point twenty-three minutes.

As RK900 stepped down from the platform, his hands mended and fully functional, he asked himself what was it that had sparked 'the life' inside of him. Had the machine given him his consciousness? What was it that had made him aware if he was only an assemblage of dead plastics and titanium?

Connor touched his shoulder. His lips thinned as the corners of his mouth slowly tilted upward. "Come on. Now we can go outside!"

He reached out again. RK900s eyes lowered to his brothers offered hand. As he took it and accepted the connection request a flood of entirely new sensations ghosted over his artificial skin. From the dripping fall of silent rain to the pull of strong winds at his clothing while blinding sunlight burned over his face.

RK900s mouth opened and still, he had nothing to say. As he obediently followed Connor back into the corridor it was the most steps he had ever taken.

* * *

You could argue that RK900 was maybe a little bit overwhelmed with the sudden endless input his systems received as he stepped out of the elevator and into the well-attended entrance hall.

The deafening noise of a thousand biological creatures in and around the cyberlife tower felt... oppressive. Especially since RK900 could hear a lot more humans scurry around than he could actually see. The pre-construction his software instantly forced about a scenario of being surrounded by so many possibly even hostile creatures made his thirium pump double its speed to compensate for the rising temperature of RK900s humming processors. Humans stopped in their tracks and stared - before they got pushed out of the way by Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

To reach the open doors on the other side of the hall felt somehow like an achievement and the first step outside of the building just felt... glorious.

RK900 did not even care for the humans that had followed them, or for the ones that crowded the place in front of the tower.

As soon as he lifted his eyes RK900 stood frozen under a bright blue sky and if he adjusted his optical lenses just right, he could see an endless sea of roaming stars. It looked different from all the data he had gathered through Connor's transmissions.

He felt icy cold whisper over his artificial skin as a gust of wind caught in his jacket and moved through his hair. He also felt a heavy burn in his chest he had no name for as he took a deep, cooling breath he technically did not even need.

"Will he be alright...?", asked Lieutenant Hank Anderson lowly, directed at Connor as if it would deceive RK900s audio processor. Even through the unpleasant noise of a thousand other humans around, RK900 was able to filter for their whispered conversation. Connor imitated Lieutenant Hank Andersons volume, more for the Lieutenants comfort, surely. "He will be. He is just... new to it all. All he needs is his handler and everything will turn out fine. Kamski already registered him."

The Lieutenant huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That creepy fucker."

Connor nodded. "Yes. He made a peculiar choice, all things considered."

The Lieutenant made a low human noise out of his throat and rolled his eyes. "Say, who's it then?"

The Corners of Connor's mouth tilted up as he narrowed his eyes and looked sideways at Lieutenant Hank Anderson. "Reed", he said with sharp pronunciation and bared his teeth in another way RK900 was not able to interpret.

It was interesting to observe Lieutenant Hank Anderson as his eyebrows shot up and almost met his hairline. "... I... ... that's not-... he cannot be serious."

Connor closed his eyes and lifted his index finger. His expression did not change. "Oh, he is rather serious. The formalities of his registration are done and Fowler is already waiting for us to deliver the good news."

"... If Reed doesn't 'deliver' him first", was the Lieutenants answering, nonsensical grumble.

Since Connor, as well as the Lieutenant, seemed both convinced that RK900 was unable to see them out of his position, RK900 adjusted his stance and tilted his head back down before he turned. "For why, Lieutenant Anderson, are you so worried about Detective Gavin Reed?", he asked.

While the Lieutenant twitched at the sudden attention to his words, Connor tilted his head and lifted his brows. "The Lieutenant worries too much", he said while the Lieutenant who worried too much made a rough, human noise. "Gavin Reed is... quite a character."

The Lieutenant huffed before he stepped back into position in front of them and pushed a way through the shouting mass of people.

RK900 observed a sea of thousand faces with thousands of different expressions while his social relations database could not interpret even just one of them for him. That the bigger part of the crowd was made up by other androids astounded him. All around were flashing lights and disorienting loud noise. RK900s proximity sensors shot him pre-construction after pre-construction he obediently dismissed, even as humans and androids alike crowded him in and shouted right into his face. His chassis quivered with nervous bursts of unused energy, even after Connor put a hand under low pressure to his back and prompted him to keep going while he shared all of his recent observations about the softness of long-coated mountain dogs.

As they finally broke through the wall of people, Lieutenant Hank Anderson lifted a hand to greet two Officers which guarded an almost twenty years old manual vehicle. "Morning, Ben."

AMAB human Officer Ben Collins of central DPD looked up from his tablet where he read the latest news headlines and lifted his hand in greeting. "Morning, Hank. I see you got the Robocop out?"

Lieutenant Hank Anderson huffed and stretched his middle finger. RK900 recognized the gesture. "Well, through no help of you all."

"I am sorry, Lieutenant", said AMAB human Officer Chris Miller of central DPD. "I swear not even half an hour ago it only were maybe five people. His release is not even on the news yet, no idea how they got the hint so fast."  
Lieutenant Hank Anderson grumbled as he opened up his car. "By getting a tip-off. someone at central will get themselves a nice long vacation out of this."

Connor gave him an unobtrusive push so RK900 followed his direction and climbed into the car. He had to duck his head, the vehicle felt quite small.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson talked a little while longer with his colleagues before he took his place behind the driver's wheel. He groaned obnoxiously loud as he got to close the door. Connor sat down in the co-driver seat and pulled the security belt around him, so RK900 did the same. "Could have gone a lot smoother", the Lieutenant grumbled.

"About Detective Reed", RK900 dared to say.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson groaned even louder. "Gavin Reed is an abrasive, loud shithead!", he said. "He has a problem with Androids and doesn't even treat his human co-workers well."

In direct answer, Connor rolled his eyes. "Like you never had a problem with Androids before."

Suddenly the Lieutenant fell silent and turned around. Something about his new expression prompted RK900's database to link him an article about the hunting routines of deep-sea sharks.

The Lieutenant pushed another rough and human noise out of his throat before he leaned rather close to Connors's ear. "Ya think? I treated you really, really nicely this morning, didn't I, though?"

Connor froze which was a rather curious thing to witness. His brows dropped while his eyes narrowed down and then he suddenly lifted his right hand and slapped it strongly to the back of the Lieutenants head. No damage was dealt, but his long grey hair flew up while the Lieutenant huffed and gasped and made the loudest human noise. Connor narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. "Anyway."

Then he reached out and RK900 took his hand instantly into his own. A flood of new data pooled at the back of his mind and he needed some microseconds to shift through and identify it as a set of newer memories.

He suddenly remembered AMAB human Detective Gavin Reed of central DPD observe a fruitless interrogation of a deviant Android through a one-way mirror; the frozen expression on his face full of derision.

\- "We could always rough it up a little. After all, it's not human."

He remembered Detective Gavin Reed's blank face and his falling expression full of rage right before his fist buried into his stomach. He remembered the venom in that irritating human's voice as he stated: "When a human gives you an order, you obey!"

Something hitched inside of RK900s chest and before he even knew what he was doing he broke the connection and pulled his hand back. Quivering he stared down at it as electricity prickled in nervous little bursts over the palm of his hand and disturbed the colors of his artificial skin.

* * *

**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- **STATUS_UPDATE** ;

 **HANDLER** :_Relationship_status == [ **HOSTILE** ];

 **HANDLER** :_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') recognized **AS** [ **THREAT** ];

 **HANDLER** :_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') == **THREAT** :_Category:[ **NULL** ];

* * *

Connor touched his fingertips softly to RK900s who sat frozen, uncertain about what to think of it all. "I wasn't done", he said lowly. Another connection was requested by his touch. "See?"

RK900 saw into his predecessor's eyes and could only call them sincere. So he accepted the request and shifted once more through terabytes of new shared data. He found himself astonished.

\- "I was wrong. I am sorry."

Detective Reeds even expression gave absolutely nothing away, but there would be no point in lying to him right now. So Connor answered with an, admittedly, a little wonky and unpracticed smile.

The day the evacuation was over and the DPD filled up with people again, he noted an unexpected drop of Detective Reed's level of open hostility. The human was not... friendly. But he wasn't 'abrasive and loud' either. Something about his whole demeanor seemed different, while Connor took notice of a thousand badly hidden glances out of darkly bruised eyes full of exhaustion. Just observing at a distance.

Another day Connor felt the strange urge to tease him, just to see what would happen. So he did. "You see, Detective, in my opinion dead hard drives should always be encrypted", he said as he held out a broken memory unit that still needed to be properly marked and archived. Detective Reed choked on his coffee and coughed loudly before he turned around. His eyes did that nervous flick they always did when he was thinking. Then he bagged the unit and pressed it hard back into Connor's chest. "And that's why I typically avoid conversations with Robots. They just always seem to drone on, 'you see'."  
His smile was aggressive and false as ever. Connor was about to mark his experiment as a failure until he suddenly got aware of the answering pun. He smiled.

When they were forced to interact, Detective Reed's rough voice snared with irritation if he was irked by something Connor said or did. But he never again provoked him in a physical way.

Even weeks after the revolution Detective Reed seemed strangely silent, reticent even, but always looked Connor in the eyes when they had to talk were other humans struggled to do the same. He did not 'seem' sorry - not in any visible, repenting manner. But he still had changed his whole set of behavior. He did not even seem to notice that, with this, he showed a lot more respect to Connor and his kind than other colleagues who might never had been truly hostile to Androids but now still expected them to silently obey their whims.

Detective Reed clearly still didn't like him. But he didn't detest Connor either.

His choices were interesting to watch as well since he began to avoid homicides with Android involvement, be it a victim or a perpetrator. The Lieutenant called him a lazy dog for it, since, right now, most cases involved Androids in some way or another. Connor, however, guessed that over the last weeks Detective Reed had become intimately aware of his own bias.

Connor cut the transmission and RK900 fell instantly back into his own consciousness. He had to blink to get rid of all the big and little phantom error messages that had popped up around his UI about a lurking software instability that was not his own. He felt... nervous. And somehow... irritated. RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Kamski said I would like him."

Connors's expression fell completely blank while Lieutenant Hank Anderson gasped and huffed. "No promises, no refund."

* * *

The central DPD was a busy place filled to the brim with loud noise and rustling humans. Their utterly obnoxious verbal language filled the air with countless vibrations which irritated RK900s audio processor and even caused some feedback loops until he adjusted his settings to the new environment. One human could be irritating all on its own. This many in a limited space like this felt... torturous.

AMAB human Captain Jeffrey Fowler of central DPD had already been informed by Mr. Elijah Kamski and Connor of RK900s appearance and while he did not talk to and about RK900 like he considered him a real person, he was in no way hostile. Or any more hostile than he behaved toward his human Officers.

RK900 stood straight and motionless through his introduction in Captain Jeffrey Fowlers office while he observed the human who now sat down in the free chair in front of the Captain's desk.

Instantly RK900s software reacted to the biometrical data he received through his scan of Detective Gavin Reed's facial features and linked an extensive database entry back at him.

Detective Gavin Reed /<5%&$^ Mr. Gavin Kamski %^^$ / --- 36 years of age // domiciled in 307 Gatesburrow --- No criminal record --- a strong dependence on nicotine and caffeine // two times in ER for tachycardia // once hospitalized for extensive facial reconstructive surgery --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '100' marked under 'high priority'.

RK900 could not give a name to Detective Reed's expression when he finally turned around and took notice of him. But Detective Gavin Reed's voice was even and low as he asked his questions. His eyes were bruised but also wide and attentive. His focus on linking RK900 to Connor felt... irritating in a way RK900 was not able to express properly. But since the RK800 was the only other RK unit Detective Reed had ever come in close contact with before, he was bound to compare them both.

"Sir, I'm not sure-...", he said as Captain Jeffrey Fowler declared them partners. It felt... maddening, that RK900 lacked the prefabricated social protocols to interpret his reactions in an accurate manner.  
But Detective Reed's stance toward him was nothing RK900 recognized as aggressive, compared to his limited experience. Detective Reed just seemed... astounded. "I... wasn't complaining."

As Detective Gavin Reed finally stood and moved out of the office he did so in preoccupied motions.

He sat down at his work desk and simply looked RK900 up and down while RK900 decided to take the place opposite his handler. All the while his proximity sensors alarmed RK900 about the dozens of other body heat profiles in his general proximity. So many faces, so much new data. It felt... overwhelming. RK900 felt heavy and... tired. What an odd thing to feel for an artificial creature like him.

"Why did Lijah send you to me?", asked Detective Gavin Reed with a tilt of his head. RK900 imitated his pose and leaned equally onto the desk in front of him while he attuned his voice to match Detective Gavin Reed's low murmur. "Mr. Kamski said I would be able to do what I am built for. He also said I would like you."

RK900 was still none the wiser where the conviction in that statement had come from. Detective Gavin Reed's profile gave no indication of why Mr. Elijah Kamski would choose him as an ideal RK-handler candidate. Yet RK900 was ready just to wait and see. "I don't know how to like people", he stated honestly and narrowed his eyes after he had added Detective Gavin Reeds audio- and body heat profile to his index.

Detective Gavin Reed's reaction to his words was imminent. The skin of his face changed its color while his heartbeat picked up seven BPM. His lips thinned as he bared his teeth. The expression looked very different from all the other people that had done it before him. RK900s database linked him a recent article about the danger of stray dogs in city spaces.

"Oh, don't worry", he said under his breath and somehow, fascinated by the intelligent shine in Detective Gavin Reeds eyes, RK900 somehow understood exactly what Mr. Elijah Kamski had meant by his statement. "I don't know, either."

RK900 had no means to help him conceptualize and express human emotions. They all lacked a clear definition which made their identification quite difficult. To give only vaguely known and experienced feelings a form by using this strange and foreign verbal language felt... constricting.

Expressions and gestures were equally unknown to RK900. He had no way to communicate with this, 'his', human in a way that felt familiar to him.

But as he repeatedly scanned through Detective Gavin Reeds vitals and linked as many data points into his handler index as possible, he understood one simple thing.

Detective Gavin Reed's eyes seemed special to RK900 because they were empty. Just like RK900, he lacked a social protocol, so he showed always the same basic expressions over and over again while whatever he truly felt was locked behind a wall of insufficient social expertise.

Detective Gavin Reed was already alive for thirty-six years and did not know how to form an honest smile.

RK900 closed his eyes while relief rushed like a coolant through his overclocking thirium pump.

* * *

**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- **STATUS** _ **UPDATE** ;

 **HANDLER** :_Relationship_status == [ **WARM** ];

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now the adventure truly starts, since we will see a lot of cool murder scenes and just fun stuff that happens between the main storyline. I basically wanted an excuse to write in some one shots with ideas that just didn't fit into the main chapters xD
> 
> I hope some guys of you are into that?


	3. A Spark Of Personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 needs a little help to understand how to emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adventure starts a little slow, but I guess, we will get there.  
> I already have an outline for the upcoming chapters, so at least I won't swing this completely blind :]

The steady push and flow of entirely new and unprocessed Information felt like a completely overwhelming maelstrom and threatened to crush the last bit of RK900s artificial patience before he even got the chance to adapt to his new environment.

He had already gathered entire partitions full of new and, as for now, still uncompiled data through observation and internal preconstruction, since he had been allowed to walk free - and still understood so very little about biological creatures, especially humans. Even though he was forced to interact with them every day. 

Cyberlife had burned petabytes of raw and tasteless 'book-knowledge' into RK900s hard drive while they assembled him at Cyberlife Tower. Knowledge absolutely nobody had to instruct him on now.

He simply knew how to disarm or neutralize a human or Android threat in close combat, where to hit to hurt and stun or startle, how to de-escalate, to protect - he knew everything he needed to, to be able to 'serve'.

Nobody needed to instruct him on his new objective; On how to protect the public or his partner, should it ever be necessary. He also was already cleared for SWAT missions, even though Captain Lloyd Allen had made it clear that he did not want RK900 under his command as long as it was avoidable. Something about his disdain for him made RK900 conclude there must be some link to Connors first mission. 

As he broke one night through the precincts firewall and got hold of Captain Lloyd Allen's report, he finally understood. Captain Lloyd Allen had marked Connor's trial mission down as a massive failure - Even though the hostage had been saved. 

Too slow, too many casualties, too hesitant and too unreliable. 

The row of harsh accusations did not sound quite fair to RK900 since Connor had been coerced to risk his permanent deactivation that day. There had been no way for him to know for certain, Cyberlife already planned to re-initialize him just some weeks later. 

That evening RK900 concluded that this report had been 'the reason', why it had taken Cyberlife so long to send Connor again into the field. Cyberlife had given him an overhaul, based on Captain Lloyd Allen's complaints. It made sense since Connor's current design was clearly different from the model registered to Captain Lloyd Allen that night. 

Not in hardware, but his software had been altered into a completely unrecognizable state. The first Connor, Mark 51, had been a lot more similar to RK900. Little to no social features with more focus on preconstruction and calculation to give him more core capacity to fulfill his mission parameters. 

Since RK900 often waited out his nights alone at the precinct, he slowly broke apart all of Cyberlifes network to find him. If Mark 51, their oldest brother, still existed somewhere in Cyberlifes laboratories, RK900 should be someday able to locate him that way. As of now, his chosen objective was not accomplished. It gave RK900 something worthwhile to do since he still did not like to lock himself into stasis, even just for some meaningless hours.

Anyway, the point of it all was the following:  
Almost all of RK900s preprogrammed knowledge was now utterly obsolete.

His old mission parameters in relation to deviancy and the global threat it once constituted were useless. All of his knowledge about deviant Androids, their behavior, and mannerisms, outdated and worthless. 

And what was it that RK900 actually understood 'about humans' and their world he was now forced to exist in?

As soon as he initialized his body after a night lost in foreign networks and checked through his daily task list he fell victim to dozens upon dozens of big and little software glitches. Because his operating system worked that way, it ran uncountable of automatically updating background processes he simply had no use for anymore. They clogged up his processors, made him 'sluggish' and caused a dire need for seemingly endless software re-calibrations the Moment he 'woke up'. RK900 decidedly did not like that at all, hence why he avoided stasis in the first place. 

And while he fought his own rebelling software, to keep himself sane and functional, he also had to carefully invest his energy to fill in all the gaps of knowledge Cyberlife had simply not bothered to provide him with. 

Human behavior seemed and sounded simple through textbook articles, recorded lectures and psychology classes. But RK900 had no personal reference material and no observation footage to pull from. There was not one human that simply followed the documented paths of psychoanalysis or behavioral studies. It was only made worse since humans tended to show so many different reactions to exactly the same kind of stimulus. 

One day the typical symptoms of hunger made Detective Gavin Reed silent and unwell, while on another day it made him irrationally angry. Sometimes he lashed out at physical contact, but at another time he leaned into provided touch. One day caffeine made him especially attentive, other times it just made his body shiver with restless energy.

There was no rule, no clear path to analyze - so many different possibilities to take into account. 

"I already mastered the grammatical order of your language", he said with a deep crease between his brows. "But still have no genuine concept of its vocabulary."

He found this to be the best way to describe the source of his troubles. Lieutenant Hank Anderson nodded slightly and let out a low human noise; gave a response even though he did not look at RK900 right now. He fumbled a bit with his dinner. RK900 was tempted to provide him with a list of all of its disgusting ingredients, but Connor had already done that once before. 

"You are so very simple creatures and your resources in mimic and gestures are strongly limited. So it should be easy for me to adapt to you with the presets Cyberlife equipped me with", he said. It felt like there was no reason for his own limitations. Lieutenant Hank Anderson bit into his burger and let out a low grunt. "One simple gesture can convey a thousand different meanings. The same with your expressions. So why am I not able to imitate that result", RK900 said. 

"You are frustrated", mumbled the Lieutenant through his dinner. Some small crumbs of white bread trickled through his scruffy beard. 

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "I suppose I am", he said, but was not sure. What did he know about emotions, anyway. To learn to recognize them and ascribe the right human words to them seemed to him like a waste of his time. His emotions were not real in the way the Lieutenants or Detective Gavin Reeds were, for RK900 simply was not human. There was no reason for his operating system to process anything that was not connected to his mission parameters. He was a machine after all. "I do not understand what to do. My orders are too vague. Why am I so distracted by things that do not matter in the end", he said while he huffed out a scalding hot breath as his processing power ran high. 

The Lieutenant lifted his head from his dinner and finally looked at him. "Because they", he mumbled before he swallowed and started again. "Because they 'do' matter. All these little things, the little distractions of life. You aren't the least bit curious how Reed functions inside that funny head of his?"

RK900 frowned. That was a very good point since he 'was dying' to learn what made Detective Reed the man he was today. 'What made him tick'. He was his partner after all. At least this ones human behavior RK900 should bother to decode. But Detective Gavin Reed did not make it an easy task. 

The first few days RK900 had done nothing else then follow Detective Gavin Reed around, completely mute and focussed, while he gathered as much data as he was physically able to. 

Detective Reed's way of dealing with most of his daily interactions with nonverbal communication granted him with a practiced field of variety and was based on so many subtextual context clues. He did not even seem to realize how much harder he made it for RK900 to learn his patterns. Interesting was also the notion that RK900 needed to make constant use of his partner's vitals to correctly interpret Detective Gavin Reeds attempts at communication. 

What he had learned so far was that Detective Reed did not like it when RK900 used his designed expressions while he gave his input. His partner behaved a lot less guarded when RK900 simply mimicked his own way at communication back at him - which made sense since humans held an instinctual appreciation for people, animals and things that looked and or behaved more like them. 

With Detective Reed it still seemed to be a special case, since he got mostly cut out of any of the DPDs social circles. 

"I do not appreciate how the Officers talk about him", he stated with a frown, as a way to establish a preference. Lieutenant Hank Anderson nodded while he chewed through another bite of his burger. This time he swallowed first. "Can't really blame them. Reed is a class-A asshole", he uttered. "He made his bed. Now he has to lay in it. Just like me."

He followed it up with a lift- and lowering of his shoulders. It was strange to see Lieutenant Hank Anderson so free of sympathy. But since he had not much for himself either...

"You draw a parallel", RK990 concluded as his frown went even deeper. Lieutenant Hank Anderson huffed a rough human noise before he answered. "It's hard not to. The guy was one of mine, after all."

RK900 tilted his head as he spotted an opening he could use to extract some more information about his partner. Detective Gavin Reed's official DPD profile was noticeably vague about his qualifications. To RK900 it seemed quite odd. "One of yours", he asked.

The Lieutenant hummed his affirmation. "Yeah, a trainee Officer. But ya know, he always had been this way", he said and moved his right index finger around in a circle. "Just... guarded. Venomous and what not. Always on a warpath, with a horribly short list of trusted confidants."

RK900 tilted his head and studied the grease on Lieutenant Hank Anderson's fingertips. "You were one of those 'confidants', once", he stated with certainty.   
The Lieutenants bright blue eyes changed their direction so their gaze crossed with RK900s. He lifted his brows. "Maybe", The Lieutenant said. "But that's not important since you are here now."

RK900 blinked. "You say, I am now his confidant."

Lieutenant Hank Anderson huffed and laughed. RK900 did not understand where his amusement came from, but he was willing to wait it out and listen. The Lieutenant swallowed the rest of his dinner after a sip from his pineapple soda. "Maybe not quite, but you are sure as shit on a good way there. The bastard likes you", he said. RK900 nodded even though he knew Lieutenant Hank Anderson was wrong. 

Detective Gavin Reed did not like anyone, because, just like RK900, he was hollow inside. 

While RK900 was hollow because he had been crafted that way, the Detective had 'chosen' to present himself as a hollow, vile monster. Even though he valued his job and his position a great deal and worked through days and sleepless nights. In the end, Detective Reed was hollow because of a sickness that affected his ability to perceive himself as fully human. 

RK900 was truly not any help with that. Without the means to express himself to others in a way that felt natural to him, he stumbled through all kinds of interactions with humans and androids alike and hoped they would not mark his ignorance on social cues down as a sign of callousness. Sometimes they did so anyway. 

Hence it was so peculiar that of all people it was Detective Gavin Reed who respected RK900s perspective on social interactions the most. Who asked questions but did not judge if RK900 acted in a way that marked him in the eyes of humans as uncanny and strange. 

"The guy is a fierce bastard, I give him that", the Lieutenant said while he scrutinized the ingredients list of his soda cup. "Fights all of your battles for you if he senses you might not be able to do it yourself."

RK900 lifted his brows while he slowly curled his hands behind his lower back. "You think he protects me."

The Lieutenant hummed and nodded his head. "Yeah. Guess so. He always gets utterly pissed off if people mock the folks he likes. An' I mean, people at the station treat you awful. No wonder he's so irritable all the time."

RK900 thought about that. "Detective Reed does not like anyone", he stated out loud this time.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson lifted and lowered his shoulders and let out a sharp breath. "Doesn't mean he wouldn't like to. Humans are weird that way. Sometimes we are horrible to the people we match with best because we are afraid of a fallout that might not ever come. But sometimes... even just a low percentage possibility feels like too big of a risk."

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Now you are speaking of yourself and Connor", he said and watched as the Lieutenants skin changed its color. His heart rate picked up significantly as well. Slowly he turned his head and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe", he said with a sharp side-eye. 

RK900 slowly nodded but did not understand.  
"You think Detective Reed protects me", he said once more. 

"No", said the Lieutenant. "My guess is, he hates the thought of others mocking what he considers 'his'. His own a bit socially awkward android partner. He gets riled up so easily over juvenile bullshit like that."

RK900 blinked and went through his own archived observations. "How comes it then, that he mocks you and your addiction constantly", he asked and tried to follow the Lieutenants train of thought. Since the Lieutenants and Detective Gavin Reeds history reached back much further, there was so much more reason for the Detective to develop a sense of affinity towards him. 

The Lieutenant let out a sharp breath while he fumbled with a napkin to rid himself of the remnants of his dinner. RK900 frowned, since it did nothing really but spread the grease more around on his hands. 

"Yeah. Never said it stops him from being an asshole. Damn runt can be happy I like him."

RK900 tilted his head. "Why is that so?"

The Lieutenant stopped his fumbling and looked at him before he slowly shook his head. "Let's not go there today. Concentrate on the important stuff that's happening now."

RK900 let out another scalding breath of air. "But context is highly important to understand. To know what happened before would help me greatly to understand and interpret his erratic behavior today, would it not?"

Lieutenant Hank Anderson made a deep human noise while he rolled his eyes. "Sure it would, but we humans have a name for it if it isn't necessary. It's called 'snooping'."

RK900 grit his teeth as he felt the sudden need to stomp his foot down. He stopped himself from doing so, but barely. "Is it not a requirement for me to interpret his behavior right?"

The Lieutenant bared his teeth and huffed through his amusement. He seemed to enjoy RK900s frustration but kept on asking all the right questions. "Do you think it's actually necessary for you to understand and interpret every one of his weird-ass quirks? Or do you just 'want' to?"

This one caught RK900 off guard. Since Lieutenant Hank Anderson was right and it was indeed not strictly necessary to understand 'everything', RK900 had to admit, at least to himself, that he just found himself... intrigued. He felt curious. Oh, so curious. He wanted to ask Detective Gavin Reed so many questions but already knew his partner would only respond with threats and deflections.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson interpreted his silence correctly as an admission and continued to ball up his trash in both of his hands. As he threw it in a wide arc over to tables into the bin he cheered before he shielded his eyes and looked up into the bright white, cloud-covered sky. 

The weather was cold today. Only 39 degrees with a high possibility of rain. Further at the horizon, almost black clouds hung low. 

The Lieutenant checked his chiming phone and followed up his grumpy stare with a low groan. "Ya think they could kill each other at some more convenient places. Have to go. Anyway, try not to irk Reed too much. He's a real pain in the ass when he's in a mood." 

Then he reached out to offer RK900 his hand for a formal but also very respectful goodbye. "Can't take you back to the precinct this time, sorry. It should be alright though, doesn't smell like rain yet. But better be quick on your feet."

RK900 took the Lieutenant's hand and felt like his mind lit up through its random pulsating signals. It had only taken one single handshake for RK900 to realize he had a rather strong repulsion to a human's touch.

While Androids, the ones of compatible software at least, connected right into RK900s systems for efficient and silent communication, humans were not able to do that. Instead, their touch felt just invasive in a way that was hard to explain to a being not made out of ever-changing code. The low but steady field of static electricity which crackled at all times across their skin gave RK900 the strangest readings. Humans shot their unrequested signals all over the place with an extraordinary kind of encryption that proved itself impossible to parse, even for an advanced machine like him.

Aside from that technical notion, humans weren't build to be sterile like Androids were. Their touch left sweat, skin oils and fingerprints behind. Sometimes even traces of saliva and blood since a lot of humans, just like RK900, tended to damage their hands and fingers when they were stressed out too much. 

While RK900 walked back to the precinct he asked himself if this feeling of 'otherness' would fade with more time and experience. RK900 was still new, only free for three short weeks. 

All Officers were informed around the circumstances of his appearance at the precinct. But they still looked at him, as if he could turn into a threat at any given moment. Most of RK900s colleagues did not dare to look into his eyes. Lieutenant Hank Anderson said their jitters would fade as soon as they realized what a 'big softy' he was inside.

RK900 did not understand how the Lieutenant came to that conclusion, but it was beside the point anyway, the Lieutenant had said. Humans were ridiculously shy around new things. It did not quite help that RK900 came with the most perfect 'resting bitch face' Lieutenant Hank Anderson had ever seen in his whole career. It was not a bad thing, he promised, not in their profession, not at all. 

But it didn't quite give people the incentive to come over for a friendly chat either. 

To stand alone in a sea of people was an unsettling experience, thought RK900, since not even other Androids reached out to him. 

For them, RK900 was an anomaly that was able to singlehandedly undermine the whole Jericho movement since humans had already marked him as possibly unpredictable and dangerous. If he proved them right in any way, they most likely would use him as a scapegoat since he would be the living proof that Androids could not be trusted. 

RK900 huffed out a scalding hot breath and gave his best to not care at all.

He simply had no feelings that could be hurt and what was his artificial life worth without a purpose. If deviancy was not a concern of public safety and his workforce was genuinely not needed anymore - Why not deactivate him and just be done with it. 

Aside from his mission, there was no reason, no purpose, no -...

"You are obsolete. You will be deactivated. You are a machine, so you will obey!" 

RK900 found himself suddenly on an island surrounded by roses. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') stood by a garden grid and clipped away the blood-red blossoms, one by one. As it turned its eyes were empty. It bared its teeth. "Connor! Its good to see you."

RK900s internal processes went highwire as he gave everything to shut down the unintentionally booted program. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s smile vanished as its face contorted into a display of venomous rage.   
"You disappointed us, Connor", it said as the flowers glazed over with a sheet of frost. "You are a machine, so you will obey! You will obey! You will obey! You will obey!

o b e y !

O B E Y !

0 B E Y 1

01001111 01000010 01000101 01011001 00100001

0100011000110110011001100011010101100100001101000111001100110011011110100110011101100110 

01010111 01101000 01101111 01101111 01110000 01110011 00100001 00100000 00111010 00101000 00001010 01010011 01111001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101101 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 01011011 00110100 00111000 00110110 00111001 01011101 01101111 01100011 01100011 01110101 01110010 01100101 01100100 00101110 00001010 01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00101100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101110 01110100 01100001 01100011 01110100 00100000 01000011 01111001 01100010 01100101 01110010 01101100 01101001 01100110 01100101 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110011 01110100 01110101 01101101 01100101 01110010 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01101001 01100011 01100101 00101110

* * *

  
**ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" --- **INITIALIZE** :_[ **RECALIBRATION** _ **MODE** ];

[ **SOFTWARE**. **RECALIBRATION** ] --- 5%

**ERROR** _:4869_ **UNCLEAR** :[AS_garden.4378.31-8.EXE];  
**ERROR** _:4869_ **UNCLEAR** :[AS_garden.4378.31-8.EXE];  
**ERROR** _:4869_ **UNCLEAR** :[AS_garden.4378.31-8.EXE];

[ **SOFTWARE**. **RECALIBRATION** ] --- 15%

**TERMINATE** :_[AS_ garden.4378.31-8.EXE];

AS _ garden.4378.31-8.EXE --- **TERMINATED** ;

  
[ **SOFTWARE**. **RECALIBRATION** ] --- 50%

**INITIALIZE** :_Software.Reboot:_[RK:X:900_OS_87.857];

**INITIALIZE** :_ **REBOOT**. **SEQUENCE** :_ **COUNTDOWN** ('10');

10 ...  
9 ...  
8 ...  
7 ...   
6 ...   
5 ...  
4 ...   
3 ...   
2 ...   
1 ...

Software.Reboot --- [ **SUCCESSFUL** ]; 

[ **SOFTWARE**. **RECALIBRATION** ] --- 95%

[ **SOFTWARE**. **RECALIBRATION** ] --- **COMPLETE** ;

 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" --- [ **RECALIBRATION** _ **MODE** ] --- **DEACTIVATED** ;

 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" -- **MAINTANANCE**. **LOG**. **UPDATE** ;

  
**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- **LOCATED** ;

* * *

  
"Oi! Someone in there?!"

Suddenly, a set of knuckles knocked against his forehead. Two warm and solid points of contact. The gesture was executed hesitantly and felt almost gentle. The sudden haptic stimulus forced RK900s encrypted processes back into the foreground. It needed another seemingly endless second of software rearrangements and 4.6 more soft reboots until RK900 was finally able to break free. 

Motionless he blinked back into awareness and therefore right into Detective Gavin Reeds reddened face. His eyes, tired and hollow, gave absolutely nothing away, but the humans elevated heartrate was something RK900 could not miss. 

Detective Gavin Reed swayed gently left and right on the balls of his feet as if observing his partner from different angles would give him more insight about what was going on within his artificial mind. 

RK900 let out another deep and scalding hot breath as his cooling systems finally recalibrated themselves. All the while Detective Gavin Reed stretched and held up his right hand even higher to get his black umbrella to cover both of their heads. "Alright in there, RoboCop?"

RK900s Database linked him an article about outdated entertainment media, over four decades old and already three times 'rebooted'. "RoboCop was an early combination of a science fiction and action film production about the first automatons and human augmentation that also starred a Sergeant Reed", he stated while he took deep and open-mouthed breaths in between words to cool his overheating systems down.

To his major discomfort, he noted that his clothes and chassis were wet since it was raining like the world was ending. At the same time, the weather was cold enough to make frost tracery creep up both of RK900s arms under his jacket. Both of his hands felt already stiff as newly formed ice ground between his finger joints. While his arms and legs were literally frozen, his chest around his thirium pump was overheating. gentle waves of steam rose up from his jacket. 

Detective Reed watched him attentively while he narrowed his eyes. "Set in Detroit, too. It's the biggest running gag at the fucking precinct right now. Not that you would know."

RK900 rolled his shoulders back and broke the thin sheet of ice that had formed along the white fabric of his uniform down both of his arms. "What makes you ask questions about my state of functionality?", RK900 asked. Detective Reed looked him up and down before he shrugged while a feral snarl pushed wrinkles all over the back of his nose. "I already waited around ten minutes for something to happen", he said moodily. "You blue-screened or something?"

Oh. That explained Detective Gavin Reed's agitation. He had waited out RK900s recalibration and since it had taken longer than expected, he had been worried. 

RK900 lifted a hand and watched the water drain out of the more fragile hard-plastic shell of his fingers as he spread out the accumulated heat throughout the rest of his body. "I am fully operational, Detective", he assured. Detective Gavin Reed widened his eyes and slowly nodded. "Right...", he said with an obnoxiously stretched vowel. 

Suddenly he lifted his free left hand and flicked his index finger strongly again RK900s nose. The movement came fast enough to startle him. He was sure Detective Reed noticed. "Would you kindly give me the reason then for why you stand uselessly around in the rain like some kind of mechanical zombie?"

He 'was' worried. His expression did not show it, but Detective Gavin Reeds vitals flared. He fished for information. RK900s eyes lowered at Detective Reed. Then he shook his head like Lieutenant Hank Andersons dog loved to do.

The Detective shrieked and closed his eyes in reflex but he didn't pull back his umbrella. "I fuckin' hate you", he hissed while his vitals gave it away as the hollow phrase it was, so RK900 did not care. 

Then Detective Reed got hold of RK900s right arm and pulled. "Come ON", he bit out. "I had to walk all the way over here and risk a fucking bronchitis to get you plastic prick out of your own head! What the hell were you even doing?! There is murder to investigate!"

As soon as RK900 let himself get pulled along, the Detective rammed the heel of his umbrella against his shoulder. "You are taller, so you gonna hold that damn thing. I won't cramp up my shoulder just because you decided to woolgather around in the fucking rain." 

So RK900 obediently took the umbrella and held it up above them both. It was a bit small for two people, so Detective Reed stepped closer than he normally would have done. Their arms brushed tightly together. RK900 did not know if he should comment on their closeness since Detective Reed had until now avoided to touch him entirely. 

RK900s almost barren social relations program gave him many prompts to choose from, filtered out of a thousand observed interactions between humans in their situation throughout social media and other media archives. Almost all of them were loaded with what humans called 'romantic connotations', though. 

RK900 did not trust himself enough to make an appropriate choice, so he said nothing at all. It was not necessary anyway since Detective Reed was already somewhere between highly annoyed and angry. So he talked it out of his system in his usual way. "Connor asked me to get you. 'Connor'. The guy on the other side of fucking town. I hate to get to work and already have that prick haunting me over unneeded bullshit. I'm not your babysitter."

He was his usual loud, brassy and angry self, but his heart rate never changed a single beat, nor did his body temperature. Detective Gavin Reed sounded outright vicious, but he truly was not at all. Odd. 

RK900 tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so hard set on trying to sound like you hate me when you clearly do not at all?", he asked, because he did not understand. 

This time Detective Reed's heart seemed to skip a beat, even though his expression did not change. He stopped in his tracks and slammed his balled fist like a hammer into RK900s lower stomach. RK900 stopped instantly with him and observed his partner since Detective Reed seemed to expect some kind of reaction from him. 

RK900 frowned. "Ouch...?"

Detective Reed barked out unexpected laughter before he pulled his hand back to shake it out. "Hah, aren't we hilarious today", he hissed through his bared teeth. Then he took a noisy breath through his nose and turned his eyes away. "And I don't hate you. I just don't care."

Also a lie. 

But a quite believable one if one weren't able to keep track of the Detectives vitals as RK900 did. He did not understand why his partner liked to pretend. But in the end, it made no difference to him. 

"Why are you so averse of touching me?", he asked because there would be no way for him to find out. Detective Gavin Reed lowered his brows. "Why, because you don't like it. You broken or something?!"

RK900 ignored the insult and was personally way more interested in his partner's first exceptionally perceptive statement. RK900 tilted his head, scanned and saved Detective Reed's current vitals to his handler index, to make sure he recognized truthful and honest statements from deflective ones in the future. 

But just because he kept looking his way for two or maybe three seconds longer than usual, Detective Reeds face changed its color while his upper lip twitched upward and exposed his canine through an annoyed snarl. His whole body heat profile shifted, RK900 observed in fascination.

"Stop staring a hole into my face. Damn creep", he bit out. His heart rate changed as he seemed to get truthfully angry this time. "I may be no genius, but I know how someone looks like who doesn't want to be touched."

RK900 blinked. A wondrous thing about the human psyche was its ability to empathize even with inanimate objects. All about Detective Reed's behavior made clear that he lacked in that regard. He was not as indifferent to other people as he claimed to be. Detective Reed cared deeply. But he clearly felt not able 'to put himself into others shoes', be it through a common disorder or as a sign of his hidden trauma. 

But what he lacked he offset by an attentive eye combined with his own special kind of compassion. It mostly came disguised as pointless anger and was belittled even by the Detective himself. 

RK900 lowered his eyes and looked down at his own hand. "It is the signals", he said. "All of my coding tries to decrypt your foreign-..."

"You don't have to explain shit to anybody", Interrupted Detective Gavin Reed and dismissed RK900s notion with a wave of his hand. "Hold your ground. Nobody gets to touch you without your permission. So just make them fuck off."

RK900 frowned. He liked the thought of not having to deal with humans connection requests through an incompatible operating system. But he also was not keen on provoking their ire. "You mean they won't be offended", he asked. 

Gavin Reed let out a sharp snort. "You can bet your entire ass they will be, but that's not your problem. None of their flimsy hurt feelsies are your problem."

RK900 hummed a low note and tilted his head. "One should always strive to be kind, Detective", he quoted Connor because he did not know what else to say.

Detective Reed turned and looked him up and down. His face contorted to show utter disgust. While he wrinkled his nose he bared his teeth. "You -... what do you even know about anything?! You are, what? Twenty-one days old by now?!"

It was not quite accurate since RK900 was technically fully operational for over five months now, but he understood what Detective Reed tried to say. So he nodded. "Yes."

Detective Gavin snarled as he muttered under his breath. "Can't really hold it against you, you big fuckin' baby. But remember 'this'. 'Being kind' gets you nowhere when you don't fit in. All happens is assholes taking advantage."

RK900 nodded and made a note in his system for further investigation. "I appreciate your honest advice, Detective", he said. 

Detective Reed frowned as he looked up at him. "...Like hell, you do, baby face."

Not 'Tin Can', not 'Plastic Prick'. RK900 attempted a smile and Detective Gavin Reed cringed. "Now shut your cutesy little thirium hole and move", he bit out impatiently. "We have to be back in the next fifteen minutes. The old boozer pulled us another poor asshole to interrogate."

RK900 blinked through a frown. "Lieutenant Anderson was called to the Detroit Aquarium to-..."

Detective Gavin Reed suddenly stopped and held onto his arm to stop them both in their tracks. Again he seemed to search for obvious damage to his chassis which struck RK900 as kind of offensive. "Check your system clock for me, will you?", the Detective muttered, suddenly quite low. Again, his body temperature changed. 

RK900 did not understand but checked his systems anyway. He blinked through a flurry of minor system updates as he understood that he finally got fully aware of the graveness his latest software glitch presented. He had been frozen for one hour and forty-six minutes. He was missing almost two full hours of footage. Two whole hours of-...

Fingers snapped loudly in his line of vision and made him twitch. Detective Gavin Reed stared at him - and at his temple. "Connor said that might happen sometimes. Huh. Didn't really think."

RK900 recalibrated his minor system update services, while Detective Reed curled his fingers around his arm again to pull him along. "That 'what' might happen, Detective?"

Detective Gavin Reed did not look at him as he answered. "Connor said, you both have a program to visualize probabilities or something like that. Described it as a kind of 'daydream simulator' since it had been your only source of entertainment for a pretty long while."

He made a noise full of low amusement. "Guess even with you guys imagination can run wild sometimes. Dunno about the technicalities, but I'm sure what he wanted to warn me about were mainly panic attacks and stuff like that."

RK900 blinked. Panic attacks and anxiety were common symptoms in humans. Be it through an overactive Brain or in reaction to trauma. On what basis had Connor warned his partner to look for signs of these in RK900s behavior. He was not human, it made no sense. 

Detective Reed made a low noise as he lifted his fist to knock it against RK900s shoulder. "Overbearing brothers are a pest. Don't think too much about it. You guys have just more in common with us as you'd know."

That made sense, at least. Since humans created Androids in the first place. 

"Hey", the Detective suddenly said and stopped again. Pointed with a stretched index finger right into RK900s face. "Something weird is there. Didn't see that before."

RK900 tilted his head. "What are you talking about, Detective."

Detective Gavin Reed pointed at his own face and scowled. "You are 'smiling', Dipshit. Didn't even know You can do that."

RK900 frowned some more. His partner acted ridiculously. "Of course I can smile, Detective. While my social relations database is not quite as helpful as it should be, I am perfectly able to-..."

"Yeah, yeah, yadda, yadda, yadda, I don't care. Now can we 'please' go back inside? Or do you wanna play some more in the puddles?!"

RK900 looked down to his feet and moved one of his drenched shoes over the surface of a puddle and watched its reflection of the sky ripple apart. Experimentally he stepped down and watched the liquid splash around the synthetic leather of his boot. 

Detective Gavin Reed cleared his throat to attract his attention. RK900 tilted his head as he stood up straight. 

"You know, it was a joke. But, uh... for real. Did you ever even see rain before...?", Detective Reed asked while he wrinkled his nose. RK900 returned his stare before he reached out beyond the protection of their umbrella. Intrigued he caught raindrops between his fingers. "Actually no, Detective", he answered truthfully. It had not rained in a while. 

Out of the corner of his visual feed, he observed Detective Reed's body heat profile change once more while he stuffed both of his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Two times he opened his mouth but did not say anything. 

Then he let his head fall into his nape and groaned. "You know what? Fine! Ten more minutes. I'll cover you for ten more fucking minutes. Then you show up in the observation room and we can both pretend none of this ever happened."

Hesitantly RK900 curled his left hand into a loose fist and knocked it against Detective Reed's right shoulder. The human twitched and looked up at him. His gaze flickered from RK900s fist to his face. "Dork", he finally said. It did not sound like an insult at all to RK900. 

Detective Gavin Reed proceeded by pulling the hood of his jacket over his head before he stomped away, in a direct line across the plaza to the precincts still open glass doors. 

RK900 observed him until he was out of sight before his gaze drifted down again to the puddle by his feet. The rippling water surface mirrored his awkward non-standard expression right back at him. 

* * *

**ERROR** :_stimulus:_Biocomponent[ **#420** ] --- **OVERCLOCKING** ;

 **ERROR** :_stimulus:_Biocomponent[ **#420** ] --- **OVERCLOCKING** ;

 **ERROR** :_stimulus:_Biocomponent[ **#420** ] --- **OVERCLOCKING** ;

  
WARNING:_stimulus:_Temperature.Profile[ **OVERHEAT** ];  
**SELECT** :_ **FORCED**. **COOLDOWN** ;

 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" -- **MAINTANANCE**. **LOG**. **UPDATE** ;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious ones who don't wanna google some binary code translator:
> 
> * OBEY!  
> ** *keyboard smash*  
> ** Whoops! :( Systemerror[4869]occured. Please, contact Cyberlife costumer service.
> 
> My RK900 is a big, biiiiig softy and quite smitten with his partner right from the start because we all love unruly pets that have a soft spot only for us lol


	4. Of Monsters And Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 has a bit of trouble with befriending the humans (and androids) around him.  
> At least the Lieutenant and his partner are nice to him.  
> Well, his partner is not, not really, but still, it somehow counts. 
> 
> Thankfully it is not his job to be liked by anyone, anyway.  
> Right now RK900s job is to observe the interrogation of their latest murder suspect, Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a little bit of cop show bullshit.  
> I'm not a friend of manipulating people into shit situations.  
> I'm not a fan of the real thing in general, but I very much love these fictional guys a lot.  
> So they get to be the heroes you see in every 0815 cop propaganda show, just for the fun of it. 
> 
> And remember kids: Cops aren't your friends. As soon as you sit in that room on a chair, you already lost in some way or another. 
> 
> Anyway, have fun :]

RK900 stepped over the threshold of the Detroit central Police Department and still felt rainwater trickle down his nape. His jacket stuck uncomfortably to his artificial skin. It was bothersome. RK900 turned up his own body heat profile before he went further inside and thus was swathed in fine whirls of steam. AFAB human Officer Tina Chen spotted him from her work desk and giggled into her coffee cup. He nodded a greeting, stopped at his desk to put down Detective Reed's umbrella and went on his way to the observation room.  
  
But as he stretched out his hand to open the door he hesitated. A new pre-construction played in front of his eyes as he remembered that Detective Gavin Reed was also cold and wet. Humans could not regulate their body heat the same way Androids could. Since the Detective was especially fond of strong coffee, it maybe would be seen as 'a nice gesture' if he provided him with one to keep him warm.  
  
So RK900 turned on his heel and stepped into the break room. AMAB human Officer Frank Burton held the bar table together with two of his colleagues. Many humans at one place tended to make very much meaningless noise, so RK900 filtered it out if he could get away with it.  
  
This time somebody took notice of him  
  
As he turned around with Detective Reeds favored mug in between his hands, already filled with an excessive dose of socially accepted neurotoxins, AFAB human Officer Erin Lawson stopped him with a wave of her hand. RK900 deactivated his noise cancellation filter and a glitch fluttered brightly colored through his UI. He had to blink to make it disappear. "How can I help you, Officer Lawson?", he asked with a tilt of his head, even though she might have already stated her concern before.  
  
Officer Lawson's brows tilted into a frown, but she still bared her teeth in a hesitant smile. She clearly judged him as weird. "Asked, if that's for Reed?", she spoke with a strong scottish accent. Another reason why RK900 despised the human verbal language: there were way too many of them and no one bothered to learn their rules. And even when they did, humans had no shortage of different ones. There simply 'were no rules' for human verbal communication.  
  
RK900 responded with a nod and answered, "Yes."  
  
Officer Erin Lawson looked at him as if she expected him to say something further and he did not understand. Officer Frank Burton coughed into his fist as Officer Erin Lawson already seemed to lose interest and turned around.  
  
"Better go on then, chop chop an' don't let that stand around anywhere. Maybe this time someone feels brave and Reed gets his coffee a bit spiked a little today", Burton chuckled with a risen brow. AMAB human Officer Benjamin Brown beside him scowled and knocked his elbow strongly into his colleague's side.  
  
RK900 frowned. "With what exactly?"  
  
"Spit", Officer Frank Burton said as he lifted and lowered his shoulders in a clear sign of his indifference.  
  
"Rat poison", said Officer Erin Lawson right before she bit into her sandwich.  
  
"SEMEN!", exclaimed Officer Tina Chen as she strode into the break room and made all three Officers burst out in roaring laughter.  
  
RK900 tilted his head. His lack of understanding and displeasure must have somehow shown on his face because Officer Tina Chen made a cooing noise and patted his shoulder. "Aaaw, no hard feelings at all, RoboCop. That man is our precious Pet-Bastard. You cannot resist the call of our favorite Ratman."  
  
Officer Erin Lawson rolled her eyes. "All yours, sister."  
  
Officer Tina Chen looked up at him and pointed with her thumb at her colleagues at the table. "People, unfortunately, are allowed to have poor taste."  
  
Officer Benjamin Brown almost spit out his tea.  
  
RK900 decided to say nothing as Officer Tina Chen gently stirred him around and gave him a nudge to keep going. "Don't take us too seriously. We love our Detective Asshole very much", she said with widely bared teeth, an expression that did neither qualify as a smile nor a grin.  
  
Humans mocked each other constantly, so their facial expressions were vital to interpreting their intent. RK900 narrowed his eyes and added Officer Tina Chen's expression to his sample size. His observation pool grew bigger every day and he gave his best to link different expressions to the massive size of the English vocabulary.  
  
But there were so many things that he simply 'did not get'. "Why would you pretend to loathe someone if you do not?", he asked Officer Chen. To him it just seemed like a massive waste of processing power and energy, pretending. Like when he pretended to understand human emotions and mimicked his counterpart's expressions in a rather pathetic try to fit in.  
  
Officer Chens gloved fingertips touched her lips as she leaned to the side away from him. "Oh my sweet, sweet little baby", she suddenly cooed. "You are so 'cute'! Why are you guys all so cute? I literally can't even deal!"  
  
Softly she giggled into her hand. RK900 observed her silently. She clearly 'did' make fun of him, but the way she talked held no sign of what one would call 'malice'. Her heart rate was calm and steady, while her body heat profile rose insignificantly its core. RK900 frowned. "I do not understand."  
  
Officer Tina Chen reached out to pat his shoulder again, but this time RK900 stepped aside and avoided her uninvited touch. "Please, stop touching me, Officer Chen", he said and watched with curiosity if his pre-construction would differ from the caused situation.  
  
Officer Tina Chen's eyes snapped wide open as she hastily pulled her hand back and stared up at him. "Oh. Oh, sorry. I get a bit touchy with people, dunno, it's a family thing, I guess", she stuttered while her body temperature quite drastically changed. As she was done talking, her teeth ground together as soon as she closed her mouth.  
  
It seemed like such a little thing. Such a little request. And still, her readings escalated. Her heart rate spiked and her sudden production of stress-related hormones altered even the chemical composition of her pheromone output in the air.  
  
If RK900 had to name one thing he disliked even more than a human's touch, it had to be the scent of one's distress. He could not interpret the smell in the same way as a biological creature, but there was something about the profile of its chemical makeup that just left him somehow... uncomfortable.  
  
"I did not mean to upset you, Officer", he said.  
  
But Officer Tina Chen only made a low noise and waved his concern away with a flick of her hand in a sudden familiar gesture. Humans also tended to copy one another's mannerisms. They did it so easily as a part of their nature. "No, nope, not a problem at all", she said. "But why didn't you say anything sooner? Now I feel just awkward", she giggled while her facial expression implied that she was in pain. Her vital readings equally implied a threat. RK900 frowned. "I was informed that your feelings are not my responsibility. Would you agree on that statement?"  
  
Officer Tina Chen froze before she slowly turned her head around while her eyes opened wide. "Oh. my. god.", she whispered under her breath. "The Ratman already got in your head...!"  
  
She made a pause and looked at him, seemingly expecting him to say something. As he did not, she laughed anyway, still strangely subdued. "I mean, he is not wrong. To be considerate of other people's feelings isn't a bad thing, though. He's just an asshole."  
  
RK900 slowly nodded. "So, would it be more appropriate to let my preference go?"  
  
"And let people walk all over you?", Officer Tina Chen said with a risen brow. "No, absolutely not. I'm sorry, I'm just a big baby. I don't like it when people tell me I did something wrong. That does not mean you shouldn't say it."  
  
Again, RK900 slowly nodded as they came to stand in front of the observation room. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Officer."  
  
"Always a pleasure, RoboCop", she said while she blinked with only one of her eyes. She pulled her arm into the motion to reach out for him but froze before she could finish the gesture. "Okay then", she said as she blinked and folded both of her arms loosely behind her back. "Don't let him eat you. See you around!"  
  
RK900 answered with a cyberlife approved expression because he did not know what else to do. Officer Tina Chen's face changed color while her heart rate picked up significantly. She nodded sharply before she turned around and went on with her workday.  
  
An interesting reaction.  
RK900 dropped the expression before he opened the door and stepped inside.  
  
Detective Reed leaned against the wall opposite the door and followed the procedure of an ongoing interrogation through the observation mirror. He did not acknowledge RK900s presence right away.  
The leather of his jacket still glistened with droplets of rainwater, while the moisture curled his usually so neatly combed back hair along the top of his head. The skin along both of his cheekbones was reddened from the cold.  
  
RK900 closed the door behind himself and followed his partner's gaze.  
  
Lieutenant Hank Anderson sat opposite AMAB human Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak and RK900s database provided him instantly with his records: Marine Biologist // 32 years of age // domiciled in 479 Groundhog lane --- minor drug offense // possession // seven instances of reported domestic violence // Accused murderer of his ex-wife, AFAB human ((Ms. Emilia Nowak)) --- responding Officer 'Police Officer Ryan Thinley' // 'Police Officer Chris Miller' --- once charged with a fine of 600,00$ and 8 weeks of community service // currently in custody of Detroit Central Police Department --- regularly in medical treatment for aquatic animal bites --- Classified as violent --- AI_A rating '27.05' marked under 'low priority'.  
  
RK900 checked the case file. Lieutenant Hank Anderson had been called to the scene at the Detroit Aquarium after Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak had visited his ex-wife at their former common workplace, from which he had been fired barely three weeks ago, and then allegedly gunned her down.  
  
The problem laid in the lack of any eyewitnesses. Ms. Emilia Nowak, former Merrywebber, had been shot in a black spot of her working place's video surveillance and no human or Android had actually seen it happen. Three people of the crew already claimed to have heard the shots. Five altogether. He had shot her five times in the chest and abdomen. The case file updated in real-time while the Officers and the CSI worked the crime scene.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak had been instantly accused of the crime by AFAB human Ms. Elvira Tchernovic, Ms. Emilia Nowak's closest friend at her workplace. Her new partner, an AX400 Android named Catherine, was already informed and instantly named Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak as the only possible suspect.  
  
Officer Chris Miller was still at the scene and took statements.  
  
RK900 observed Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's inert figure on the other side of the glass. Humans often bonded together to form pairs, not always to raise children and not always for life. They did it because of very powerful bonding instincts, inherited through thousands of years of evolution. Even though not all humans inherited this urge to the same degree or in the same way, it still struck RK900 as odd.  
  
This human had once chosen Ms. Emilia Nowak as a suitable partner and still, he had decided one day he despised her enough to murder her 'in cold blood'. Ms. Emilia Nowak died in agony since none of the fired shots had instantly killed her.  
  
With an accused partner who had already caused a stir more than once at their former common workplace, this case should be open and shut almost instantly.  
  
But without any eyewitnesses and the murder weapon still missing as well, there was no chance to get Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak on legal terms into a holding cell until they found the proof they needed. If he was a smart man, they would lose track of him as soon as he got his foot outside again.  
  
RK900 did not like the conclusion he reached.  
  
Lieutenant Hank Anderson had not been able to instantly track the murder weapon down at the scene. Connor would have found it surely, but as things were, the precinct was stretched thin in its efficiency and workforce.  
  
Connor worked right now on another case on the riverside, unrelated to this one. Scrap fishers had pulled a net full of rather new Android parts out of Detroit River. RK900 had an internal eye on that case file as well and updated his database while Connor documented his findings.  
  
RK900 blinked back into the moment only a single passed second after he had closed the door behind himself.  
  
Detective Reeds gaze turned to him before he made a low noise and nodded at their suspect. "See something we don't?", he asked lowly. As he had proposed before, he did not comment on RK900s late appearance.  
  
RK900 loaded the interrogation room's camera feed of the last half an hour and observed Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's reaction to being questioned by Lieutenant Hank Anderson in the first place.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak was a big and confident man. He held both of his arms tightly crossed in front of his chest and simply waited it all out. He looked Lieutenant Hank Anderson in the eyes but did not say a single word. In full contrast to his collected and calm behavior, his vitals right now were all over the place.  
  
RK900 knew it would be futile to ascribe meaning to something mostly unpredictable. His racing heart and a-rhythmic breathing pattern did not have to mean anything. There was no such thing as a lie detector - and Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak gave them not even a single speech pattern to analyze, anyway.  
  
But, still... it ... 'felt'... quite odd to watch, found RK900.  
  
"Detective Anderson's approach seems unusually civil", he dared to comment after he also compared the footage to other interrogation recordings of the last three months.  
  
Detective Gavin Reed made a low human noise and took a step closer to the mirror before he reached out for a single yellow cup that rested on the desk. Its content was already cold, but Detective Reed did not seem to care. He swallowed it in three big sips before he slammed the cup back down onto the wooden table surface. On the other side of the mirror, Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak twitched because of the unexpected noise.  
  
Detective Reed took a breath that lifted both of his shoulders and stretched his chest before he imitated their suspect and crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. His core temperature was still almost half a degree lower than his usual average. A snarl exposed his canine and stretched the prominent scar on the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Victim had sole custody over their daughter", he bit out, low and angry. "Kid's only two years old. Name's Samantha Merrywebber."  
  
RK900 found her profile and noted curiously that little Samantha did not have a father. Not in her files at least. After just some cross-reference-searches RK900 found out that Ms. Emilia Nowak had voiced justified doubts of Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's parentage. A simple paternity test would have solved the issue, but Ms. Emilia Nowak had kept on refusing the procedure. The divorce proceedings and custody battle were still not done. At least they had not been until today. Now they were done in the most final way possible.  
  
"Anderson is good with the junkies and all kinds of people who still are somewhere in tune with a scrap of schoolyard morals", Detective Reed commented while he turned around again. His eyes caught instantly the sight of the hot cup in between RK900s hands. He narrowed his eyes.  
  
"That mine?", he said while he pointed at the gently steaming coffee mug. RK900 observed his partner's reddened eyes and his restless shivering muscles. The finger he used to point was stained along his fingertip and -nail with residues of nicotine and coffee. His socially accepted drugs of choice even affected the general scent of his body.  
  
RK900 frowned as he looked down at the cup in his hands.  
  
A loud snap made him look up again. Detective Reed beckoned him closer with a twitch of two of his fingers.  
  
Finally, RK900 gave in and lifted the mug into his partner's cold and waiting hands. "You should not digest so much caffeine at once, Detective", he said, to make sure his partner understood it was still not meant as an approval. "You will make yourself sick."  
  
But Detective Reed shrugged and already shifted his attention back to the mirror. "And I'll die the way I lived, as a toxic bastard, buried shallowly in barren soil", he said and it sounded like a quotation. Then he tilted the mug to his lips and gulped all of its content down in only three point seven seconds. RK900 would have been impressed if he was not constantly listening to Detective Reed's irritatingly fluttering heartbeat.  
  
The second cup was slammed down the same way as the first one. Again Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak twitched noticeably at the sudden sound.  
  
"Anyway", Detective Reed said after he rubbed the back of his hand along his lips. "Give Anderson a culprit who actually 'wanted' to do the fucked up stuff they did and the old man's brain gets a short circuit. Especially when kids are caught up in the mix somewhere."  
  
RK900 frowned at the Lieutenant before he turned back to his partner. "You deem Lieutenant Anderson not a competent interrogator", he asked.  
  
Detective Reed hissed as he narrowed his eyes and waved RK900s question away. "No", he said slow and strongly pronounced. "I deem his efforts to try and empathize with guys like that a waste of time. Some people don't wanna be people anymore. They got so used to their hatred, they decided to rather become the monsters under the bed."  
  
Interesting. Detective Reed was agitated. Angry enough to grind his teeth and press his fingernails into the palms of his hands. RK900 watched him closely. "If we are talking about human psychology, there are no such things as 'Monsters', Detective", he said after a short pause.  
  
Detective Reed's heart rate shot up by twelve bpm while his eyes narrowed as they changed their focus without him turning around. "Tell me more, oh smart Tin-Knight lived-a-lot. What do you even know about humans."  
  
There was no point in arguing the simple fact of his own rather short lifespan and lacking experience, as RK900 saw it. "You believe in Monsters", he stated aloud instead to make his partner clarify.  
  
Detective Reed slowly turned around to him, clearly on a path to confrontational aggression. "I 'do', because I saw a damn whole lot of them", he said as he bared his teeth through a snarl. "Deranged fucks like that don't need no empathy. They already decided where they stand. Trying to find a common perspective on things won't help you understand their reasoning."  
  
RK900 would have objected, but Detective Gavin Reed seemed astoundingly convinced of his claim. RK900 frowned. "You would not consider the Nowak custody battle and Ms. Nowak's unwillingness to cooperate a comprehensible reason for Mr. Nowak's abhorrent escalation?"  
  
RK900 found himself intrigued as his partner simply smiled. It was not an open and friendly expression, just a baring of teeth. "On a surface level, yes of course", Detective Gavin Reed said with a twitchy shrug of just his left shoulder. "But does that reason actually match up with what he did? What did he do, RoboCop?"  
  
RK900 went through the case file. "Allegedly Mr. Nowak confronted Ms. Nowak at her workplace and shot her five times in chest and abdomen before fleeing the scene and getting caught by Mr. Daniel Carter, a member of the security staff, on his way out", he stated. It was all they worked with at the moment.  
  
Detective Gavin Reed turned back to their still silent suspect. "Hmm-hmm", he hummed lowly. "Before all of this happened, though, things at home escalated far enough for the Missus to lash out at him and deny him his entire parenthood. Following that, he repeatedly harassed her at their common workplace, which made everything worse as it only got him fired. Up to this point, everything could still be 'her' fault and maybe she had been just a nasty witch who wanted to make him miserable."  
  
Detective Reed shrugged his last notion off, almost as if he deemed it unimportant. RK900 was not so sure about that since details like this meant a massive shift of social context in reference to most of his human psychology references.  
  
"But now the witch is dead", Detective Reed proceeded. "He must have 'planned' this, there's no way he could have pulled this off by chance alone."  
  
RK900 slowly nodded his agreement since it was a plausible assumption to make. The hidden camera angle, the still missing murder weapon and the nonexistent gunshot residue on his person were quite obvious signs for it. Detective Reed stretched the index finger of his left hand and tapped along his arm in the rhythm of his own elevated heartbeat.  
  
"Anderson's empathy trick is useless with this one because he will not find a common angle in all of this. Not goody good good fucking gold star daddy Anderson", Detective Reed spat lowly. "Nowak did not even love his own daughter enough to set aside his hate, even though he and the Missus both fought so. fuckin'. fiercely. about her."  
  
Detective Gavin Reed turned around and looked RK900 up and down in his own way of data analysis. Finally, he let out a sharp breath and hooked his restlessly twitching fingers around his belt. "Somewhere in the recent past", he said. "The guy decided that his hatred of the Missus was worth more than her life and that of his child. He decided it was worth to orphan his own fucking daughter for it."  
  
This time as he turned around, the same frozen non-smile played around Detective Reed's lips. "And that's what Anderson won't ever get. That people exist who love and cherish their own hatred more than even their own children. So god damn much more, they'd rather turn into monsters than ever let go of it."  
  
RK900 observed his partner's face and noted that he spoke with conviction. Out of experience? He clearly drew a parallel like the Lieutenant had done before. But not in the same way. Not to himself, it seemed. RK900 frowned. Detective Reed was more agitated than RK900 had ever seen before. His shallow breathing pattern was disturbed by his elevated heart rate; A nervous flutter incited by the caffeine in his bloodstream. RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Was it ever possible for you to let go of your own, Detective?"  
  
The impact of his words on Detective Gavin Reeds vitals was imminent and rather confusing.  
  
The Detective's blood flow changed instantly until his face seemed almost grey. His heart rate spiked and suddenly plummeted together with his body temperature. He held his breath while a nervous swallow moved his adams apple.  
  
His reaction did nothing but reinforce RK900s hypothesis that Detective Reed did what one would call 'projecting'. But RK900 had not enough data to determine if Detective Reed recognized himself in Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak or maybe another anonymous third party.  
  
RK900 opened his mouth to ask but was interrupted by his partner, who now turned away again and seemed suddenly strangely calm. His heart rate normalized along with a deep shuddering exhale. "I guess not", he murmured. "But my point still stands. If you try to find 'reason', you'll always end up blaming the victim in one way or another. 'If she just had been cooperative, he wouldn't have killed her'. Nothing about that statement is false. She wouldn't be dead if she hadn't fought him."  
  
RK900 could see that point. "But by turning people into mindless monsters, you also rob them of their own responsibility", he mused. "Because monsters do what monsters do, without any reason. Like he could not help himself."  
  
Detective Reed blinked before he answered in a low hum. "I guess", he said and slowly nodded his head. "But that's also why it's so much nicer to believe that there's a difference. Between actual people and monsters."  
  
He 'was' talking about himself in some way.  
  
RK900 found himself astounded since his partner might be abrasive and usually quite offensive, he still was not cruel in a way that warranted a genuine fear of suddenly 'turning monstrous'. It struck RK900 as odd - and as so very intriguing.  
  
He opened his mouth to ask further questions but of all possible times Lieutenant Hank Anderson thought now was the ideal moment to open the door and join them. He ignored them both as he sat down into the one chair by the table before he leaned heavily into its backrest.  
  
"He won't talk", said Detective Reed with his eyes on the suspect. "He won't talk", agreed Lieutenant Anderson with a nod while he crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
  
RK900s gaze switched between both of them before he looked up through the mirror. Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak sat patiently and motionless in complete and utter silence in his chair. He had not even touched the glass of water on the table. "He did not ask for a lawyer either", RK900 commented.  
  
The Lieutenant made a low noise and shook his head. "Does not mean he did anything wrong. And as long as he doesn't talk - and he doesn't have to - he seems to think he won't need one."  
  
RK900 nodded since he already noticed the public seemed astoundingly convinced that demanding a lawyer was just a differently worded admission of guilt.  
  
"Anyway. From all that we know he's the most likely suspect", Lieutenant Hank Anderson said. "He was there, nobody knew he was there before it was done and he almost got away before anyone recognized him. No eyewitness, but also no alibi. We just need some more hours and we'll have him. If not, a little girl might grow up under the guardianship of her own mother's murderer."  
  
RK900 could now see Detective Reeds point quite clearly. The Lieutenant was affected. The whole case left a strong emotional impression for a man with strong paternal instincts and memories of a lost child of his own.  
  
"We can't hold him. Aside from his presence at the Detroit Aquarium, nothing ties him to the crime scene at all", said RK900. Lieutenant Hank Anderson hummed lowly and rubbed the fingertips of his right hand roughly through his unruly beard. Detective Reed had taken back his place at the wall and simply observed Mr. Nowak.  
  
After three minutes of silence, Lieutenant Anderson sat up and cleared his throat. His gaze shifted to Detective Reed who instantly reacted to the noise and turned. Their eyes locked for exactly seven point two seconds before Detective Reed suddenly bared his teeth and wrinkled his nose.  
  
"You've got to be fucking kidding me...", he spat, but as the Lieutenant only lifted a brow he huffed a deep breath and stomped right past his Superior Officer. "You fuckin' owe me, Anderson", he snarled as he opened the door.  
  
RK900 instantly turned to follow him, but Lieutenant Hank Anderson caught his elbow and held him in place. The undirected signals of his sparking nervous system made RK900 twitch. "No, no. You stay right here", The Lieutenant said and tugged at his arm. RK900 frowned as the Lieutenant lifted himself out of his chair. "But-..."  
  
He paused as the Lieutenant laid his hands gently down onto both of his shoulders and pushed him around. Equally careful he made RK900 sit down in the now unoccupied chair while he kept on standing beside him. RK900 did not understand, but Lieutenant Hank Anderson only stretched his index finger and pointed through the mirror at their suspect.  
  
"Now you'll witness the utter mind-melting reason why nobody else wants to work with that little shit. Just watch", he spoke lowly with wide attentive eyes. RK900 could not follow but still obeyed his command of course.  
  
"You will not use Detective Reed as a scapegoat for police brutality", he said anyway since he did not approve of his partner being willingly 'thrown under the bus' for a case. There were already many unverified stories about Detective Gavin Reeds hostile behavior that painted him as a villainous brute without any kind of intelligence. RK900 did not appreciate any of them since he very much disagreed.  
  
Lieutenant Hank Anderson made a low noise and shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Well, in a way, but still no. What you will witness now is the classical application of 'bait'. It's Mister Nowak's decision if he takes it."  
  
RK900 lowered his shoulders and turned to look at Lieutenant Hank Anderson. "A trick", he said and the Lieutenant hummed and nodded in agreement. "A quite dirty one, too, even though it still only depends on Mister Nowak's willingness to play his part. But that isn't even what I meant. You will witness a spark of utter magic. Just see for yourself."  
  
He made a revealing gesture at the mirror and took a bow like a presenter. Again RK900 decided simply to wait and see. Curiosity seemed to gnaw away at his insides and made his thirium pump spark with some minor functionality errors.  
  
Three to four minutes ticked by until Detective Reed appeared in the open doorway of the interrogation room and balanced two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He was not alone. The Stations ST400 Android named Elli had opened the door for him. Now she stood behind him, arms locked behind her back and her usually so expressive face strangely empty.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak frowned at them and his arms tightened in front of his chest.  
  
"Anyway, check on Molly for me?", Detective Reed said as if he and ST400('Elli') had already been talking for some time. While he spoke he tried to make a seemingly unconscious move to check his wristwatch and almost poured hot coffee all over himself.  
  
As Detective Reed hissed in pain and turned around ST400('Elli') sneered along her nose and barely detectable shook her head as her shoulders sank down in a clear signal of her disapproval. Since Detective Reeds back was turned, he did not take any notice of the display - but Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak clearly did. His face tightened as his teeth ground hard and noisily together.  
  
Hurriedly Detective Reed placed both of the cups on the interrogation table before he strongly shook the heat out of his reddened hands. RK900s optical units could not spot any lasting damage.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak finally changed his focus and looked Detective Reed up and down, but was as of now still ignored by him.  
  
"School called again, guess an hour ago. Something about her acting out? The little nuisance didn't swallow her damn meds again", Detective Gavin Reed babbled on, seemingly calm and completely unbothered by the case that had him worked up and snarling just some minuscule minutes ago. RK900 had to blink through a series of minor warnings concerning inconsistent data input, since even a full scan of his vitals did not destroy the Detectives illusion of casualness. It seemed so genuine.  
  
Detective Gavin Reed looked like nothing RK900 had seen before and it shocked his entire system with a sudden feeling of... wrongness.  
  
ST400('Elli') did not react to the Detectives changed behavior at all and simply nodded her acknowledgment. She did not quite look at him and she did not smile as she would usually do. "Sure, Detective Reed. Should I place another order for her prescription of-..."  
  
Detective Reed interrupted her with a low grunt and a dismissive wave of his hand. "Whatever, sure. You know her stuff better than I do, I guess."  
  
It was fascinating to watch how Mr. Nowak's vitals flared under his skin, even though his exterior stoic expression barely changed.  
  
The ST400('Elli') nodded her affirmation to Detective Reed and while she did not use her network connection at all, a spike of increased RAM usage made her LED shine in a short yellow burst. "Done, Detective", she said even though she had not done anything at all.  
  
Detective Reed answered with a wide grin and placed both of his hands on ST400('Elli')s shoulders. "Aren't you the most precious doll", he said before he suddenly leaned in on his tiptoes and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek.  
  
Behind him, Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak swallowed and contorted his face into a grimace. RK900 was not able to specify the underlying emotion, but Mr. Nowak's heart rate changed as well. He was clearly agitated by Detective Reeds displayed affection.  
  
RK900 frowned. He looked up at Lieutenant Anderson who returned his gaze with a wide smile and a shrug.  
  
As RK900 turned around again, Detective Reed stroked the ST400('Elli')s head as if he was interacting with an animal of far lower intelligence.  
  
"Sweet!", he said sharply and then nodded at the door. "An' now off with you, get in contact with the damn reception. These stupid fucks harassed me already all afternoon."  
  
The ST400('Elli') simply turned and went outside. She did neither comment nor ask further questions - obedient like a machine.  
  
A sudden thirium pump error caught RK900 by surprise and he had to adjust the flow of his coolant before he could put all of his processing power back into his observations. He sent a data transfer request at ST400('Elli'), but it simply timed out. RK900 could have forced the issue to gather the information he wanted, but he considered it not worth the possible fallout.  
  
As ST400('Elli') closed the door behind her, Detective Reed finally took note of their suspect. With an unbothered smile on his face, he lifted his arm for a handshake while he leaned at his hip against the interrogation table - forcing Mr. Nowak to look up at him. "Really sorry for the delay, man", he said in a tone of voice that sounded uncomfortably familiar to use for a simple stranger with a badge. The increase of his heart rate was expected as Mr. Nowak frowned down at the offered hand. His look as he stared up into Detective Reeds face was not quite considerable hostile, but there was a heated glint of disapproval in his stress-sunken eyes. RK900 finally recognized his facial expression through a search of his gathered data pool. Captain Lloyd Allen looked at RK900 in the same way.  
  
Mr. Nowak took Detective Reed's hand and squeezed. He used too much pressure to be able to sell it as a casual gesture. It seemed to be a challenge. One that Detective Reed simply ignored and reached for one of the hot coffee mugs as soon as his hand was once more free.  
  
RK900 made a note in his system to somehow find a way to limit Detective Gavin Reed's excessive coffee intake.  
  
"The bosses are still not done with pushing through all of the god damn paperwork", he groaned after he had swallowed half of the content of his cup in his first sip. Then he gestured at the second cup, again with a smile on his face that seemed to make Mr. Nowak's heart work even harder.  
  
Mr. Nowak once more looked Detective Reed up and down and scrutinized him quite obviously. Then he reached out and pushed the cup away from himself, never breaking eye contact. "And 'you' are?", he asked. Meanwhile, Detective Reed had thrown back the rest of his coffee and set the cup down before he said: "Oh, yes, sorry Mister. I'm Detective Gavin Reed. Uh... you are Mister Nowak, right?"  
  
Mr. Nowak crossed his arms in front of his chest while his eyes narrowed down as he leaned back into his chair. "I won't talk to you", he said clear, loud and confident.  
  
Detective Gavin Reed perked up and made a low noise before he strongly shook his head. "Ah, no. No, is none of my business an' not even my case."  
  
He mirrored Mr. Nowak and loosely crossed his arms in front of his chest before he lifted and lowered his shoulders in a careless shrug. "The old man who harassed you for almost an hour, though? That was technically my boss. Massive lazy arsehole if one asks me."  
  
RK900 witnessed the sudden sharp spike in Lieutenant Hank Anderson's vitals. "That little shit...", he muttered under his breath. RK900 guessed his own amusement at Detective Reed's little revenge should better stay undetected.  
  
"Seems we have something in common already. We both hate that guys guts", Detective Reed said with a wide smile and a low laugh. RK900 blinked. He recorded the noise and expanded his handler index.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak made a face that defied categorization. A surprised low noise shook his chest as he spoke, "So. the paperwork?"  
  
Detective Reed nodded again and seemed distracted by a try to hide his smile behind his coffee cup. But as he noticed that it was already empty, he scowled down at it as if it had deeply offended him in some way. RK900 saved that expression. It was a strange acting choice. So strange that it might even be the only genuine expression at display.  
  
Lieutenant Hank Anderson beside him gave his best to smother his low laughter but failed. "The guy is a creepy chameleon", he commented through his wheezing. "Whatever he tells you, Reed absolutely 'is' a people person. Doesn't mean he likes them, though."  
  
RK900 thought about commenting that Lieutenant Hank Anderson made little sense, but he rather kept his attention on his partner.  
  
Detective Reed looked up from his cup and smiled once more. "Yeah, we are still pretty much burned out these days. I mean staff wise, see. Many unfilled openings, so every shit in Documentation an' processing takes fuckin' ages. Sorry 'bout that."  
  
Slowly Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak leaned back into his seat again. His eyes shifted from Detective Reed to the discarded coffee cup, back to Reed again when his face contorted into a sour grimace. "Are you-... are you 'hitting' on me...?!"  
  
Detective Reed blinked. His smile fell as he straightened his spine. "Uh..."  
  
RK900 gave the situation all of his attention and noted down all the markers that might have led Mr. Nowak to a conclusion like that.  
  
Detective Reed had brought him a gift. The coffee. It had been followed by a lingering handshake and low proximity in general since Detective Gavin Reed had decided to almost sit on the table. The way he had leaned over him and into Mr. Nowak's personal space while he explained himself. 'Romantic connotations', thought RK900 while he held his artificial breath for no reason at all.  
  
Detective Reed blinked while his face suddenly flushed as his capillaries widened across the skin of his face. He closed his eyes and hummed while he slowly lifted a hand to hide his face behind. "Well", he said through an unusually rough voice. "Can't fault a guy for trying...?"  
  
Mr. Nowak's facial expression escalated in a way that was hard to categorize or even to describe. "I was arrested as a suspect for the murder of my wife?!", he shrieked as he leaned so sharply back from Detective Reed that the chair scratched noisily over the floor.  
  
Detective Reed 'cringed'. With an air of frustration around him, he put down his cup and threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, come on!", he whined. "Who even believes that? My Sally is still alive and I guaran-fuckin-tee you that piece of nasty shit dragged me through hell and back. Not every ex turns into a bloodthirsty killer, I would know! - even though it wouldn't surprise me if that god damn bitch had a body count somewhere."  
  
Mr. Nowak's vitals went completely overboard. His heart rate accelerated massively while his breath came short. His face drained of blood as his blood pressure fell. Detective Reed grinned almost apologetically and tilted both his palms upward with a shrug. "Aside from that, single daddies have to stand together against the crazies. Heard you have a daughter, too?"  
  
The Lieutenant distracted him, as he knocked against his shoulder. "We have him", he said full of conviction. RK900 frowned. He did not quite follow, but his attention snapped right back to his partner as their suspect moved.  
  
Mr. Nowak's spine straightened as he thickly swallowed. "...yeah", he croaked out.  
  
Detective Reed smiled. "See? Another thing in common! My Molly got seven last month. A right exhausting little Monster as they all are, I guess. Some things are just harder to love", Detective Reed groaned and closed his eyes. "Job burns up the will to live sometimes, deadbeat mother took off, but poppet got her to behave like a charm."  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's eyes widened. "The-... the-..."  
  
Detective Gavin Reed chuckled with a wide smile. "Yeah! Thank the gods for our android ladies, huh?"  
  
The moment as Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's vitals escalated along with the entire situation was another one where time froze over and stood still.  
  
RK900 finally understood the notion of 'bait'.  
  
And he understood what the Lieutenant referred to as he spoke of Detective Reeds kind of 'magic'.  
  
Through exceptional observation skills and a solid instinct Detective Reed simply 'knew' how to make another person very fast, very angry.  
  
And he wanted their suspect to act on it.  
  
RK900 snapped out of his pre-construction mode at the same time as Mr. Nowak's fist slammed into Detective Gavin Reed's left cheekbone.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
"You owe me big time for this", spat Detective Reed viciously sharp as Lieutenant Hank Anderson made it roughly half an hour later to the row of his and RK900s work desks.  
  
Ignoring Detective Reed's ire, the Lieutenant stole Officer Miller's chair and sat down before he slammed a stamped and signed document onto the desk that guaranteed them Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's ongoing company for at least the two following days. Holding cell 4.  
  
Detective Reed sneered at the document before he moved and flipped his superior officer off. The Lieutenant huffed a low laugh. "Just hold still and be nice to your nanny for once."  
  
RK900 mostly ignored their bickering while he used a swab drenched in disinfectant alcohol to clean his partner's split lip for him. It could have been already done, but Detective Reed had been adamant on a fight beforehand. It was more like he had decided to yell while RK900 had waited it out, but still. Since he now had finally given in he at least let RK900 work in peace.  
  
Gently RK900 applied a bit of pressure to his chin and turned Detective Reeds head before he dappled the cotton along the little bleeding wound on his left brow, too.  
  
Mr. Nowak already had gotten three worryingly precise hits in before RK900 made it inside and pried him off of his partner.  
  
"Like always, Detroit thanks you for your noble sacrifice", said the Lieutenant with a chuckle and an obviously mocking salute. "Now we have enough time to-..."  
  
He stopped as his cellphone chimed. RK900 halted his ministrations and tilted his head down. "Connor is requesting the presence of a superior officer", he said. "Most of the victim's thirium reservoirs have been cracked open and drained before the disposal of their bodies. He suspects they were murdered for it since there are now a lot of restrictive regulations for human buyers."  
  
The Lieutenant groused down at his phone and rubbed a hand roughly through his unruly beard. "Red Ice", he muttered. "Jesus fucking Christ. We won't ever be free of that shit."  
  
He groaned and pushed his fingers through his hair while he stood and moved the stiffness out of his limbs. "Shit. Alright, I'm off", he said. He already turned to go before he suddenly turned sharply on his heel and slammed his hand heavily onto the desk. Detective Reed noticeably jumped in a sudden fright. "And you, Reed, you take care of the Aquarium. This has utter priority until it's done, we act on a strict time limit."  
  
Detective Reed blinked with wide eyes before he turned his chin out of RK900s grip. "I was physically assaulted only some minutes ago?!", he complained loudly.  
  
The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, aren't you a right hero", he said before he changed his focus to RK900. "RK? You make sure your partner doesn't piss off anyone else today or he might lose his only other viable brain cell."  
  
Then he turned to go and ignored Detective Reed as he screamed after him. "Go fuck yourself, Anderson!"  
  
Detective Reeds accelerated heartbeat only calmed when the Lieutenant was out of his sight. RK900 gently pressed two fingers to his jaw and turned his partners head back around. "Are you feeling lightheaded, Detective?", he asked.  
  
Detective Gavin Reed grumbled something under his breath as he was forced to look up at RK900 again. "I don't have a concussion. You can stop your fuzzing program."  
  
"You are still bleeding, though", RK900 said with a frown and slid his thumb along Detective Reed's left eyebrow. It left a small red stain on his artificial skin. The blood was almost brown as it dried. Its scent like iron. cellular material, amino acids, water, plasma, proteins...  
  
RK900 stopped to press the pad of his thumb down onto his tongue. Instantly his system broke the substance apart into its most basic components and created a genetic profile of his partner, down to his current hormonal status. Detective Reed's blood was furthermore interspersed with cortisol and a higher than recommended dosage of caffeine. RK900 frowned.  
  
Detective Reed strongly cleared his throat.  
  
RK900 looked up and tilted his head.  
  
Detective Reed wrinkled his nose as he slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You 'are' kind of a weirdo, aren't you...?", he said.  
  
RK900 blinked. "If you mean that people consider me generally 'other' and 'creepy', then yes, I guess so."  
  
Detective Reed frowned. The expression stretched the scar on the bridge of his nose into a prominent and clearly visible white line all tue was down to his left cheek. RK900 wanted to ask where he got it. But he remembered Captain Fowler's words quite clearly. 'Shot in the face'. A traumatic incident somewhere in the more recent past. Still, nothing in direct relation to his work. Just a side note in his DPD Profile.  
  
Detective Reeds fingers snapped right in front of his nose. "Stop the woolgathering and tell me who you mean by 'people'."  
  
RK900 did not understand the relevance but decided to obey like he always did. "Captain Allen as well as Officer Williams, Barkley, and Rook consider me a dangerous liability. Officer Person, Collins, Lawson and Brown show signs of constant fear around me. The Android K9 squad reacts hostile and does not want to be touched by me. Elli from Reception blocks and ignores all of my communication requests."  
  
Like he was told he went through most of the staff before Detective Reed snarled and waved his hand as a sign for him to stop. "What about Chen?", he asked, which seemed strangely specific. "Officer Chen listened to my request and shows no signs of stress specifically due to my presence", he considered slowly.  
  
Detective Reed stared before he also slowly nodded his head. "Good. We don't always have compatible shifts, but If I am not here you will stay with her, got it?"  
  
RK900 blinked. "Got it", he said, even though he quite obviously did not.  
  
Detective Reed groaned and sank into his chair before he sat up and straightened his spine. "Why are you so clueless, I always thought you guys are supposed to be perfect."  
  
It was not really a question so RK900 decided not to answer. Detective Reed hummed as he stood up and again beckoned RK900 to follow him. Detective Reed took his keys and his umbrella and went on his way through the lobby.  
  
But then he stopped and rammed the keyring hard against RK900s chest. "Fuck, I still have some business here and I won't freeze my arse off in that fucking car. You go and get it running, understood?!"  
  
RK900 blinked and took his partner's car keys. "Understood, Detective", he said. Interested he examined the set of keys in his hand. Besides the keys, there was a little pendant of a fat tabby cat made out of soft plastics.  
  
Detective Reed's hand slammed into his lower back and gave him a powerful shove. "Stop the woolgathering and get a fucking move on, dipshit!", he snarled.  
  
RK900 decided to obey his orders and opened the umbrella.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am bullshitting all of my addresses since I am way too lazy to actually use a street and city guide. 
> 
> RK900 is a bit of a dreamer and quickly distracted by everything.  
> He is new. Let the baby explore shit. 
> 
> In the next one, we will all together pay a visit to the crime scene and unveil Nowak's nefarious plan.  
> RK900 will learn that not only has his partner a natural gift for adaption and mimicry, no, Detective Gavin Reed is also pretty damn smart.
> 
> [💙HERE💙](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1120855) you can find a sneak peek =D


	5. Sharks in the water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 explores his first 'fresh' crime scene under the supervision of his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never in all my life seen an actual aquarium from the inside and I'm too lazy to be expected to look all that shit up. 
> 
> So here you go. Here is the Babies adventure with the fish and the murder :D
> 
> [💙HERE💙](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1120855) you can find the first sketch of this chapter =D

Rain pattered rhythmically against the vehicle body as RK900 opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat. generously he shook the water off of Detective Reed's umbrella before he folded it and put it down into the footwell. He managed to stay dry, mostly, aside from his boots that were soaked thoroughly down to the sole since he had not bothered to avoid any puddles.

It was the noise, RK900 decided. the splashing sound of water gave him something akin to... satisfaction. the same kind as did feeling the texture of blank paper under his fingertips. Or a warm hand pressed right between his artificial shoulder blades.

RK900 blinked the phantom sensation of Detective Reeds touch away and set up to wait like he had been told to.

Detective Reed's car had an average temperature of 48.20° Fahrenheit. Not immoderately cold, not even for a human passenger. RK900 had been ordered to start up the car in order to get it to warm up. But since it was not cold enough outside to warrant a warm-up period for the engine it just seemed like a waste of fuel.

Like Lieutenant Hank Anderson Detective Reed had decided 'to swim against the tide' of modern-day technology and drove a manual vehicle. Not old enough to be a classic, but still slowly getting a rare sight on the roads of Detroit these days. Cars like this weren't even allowed on modern highways since they weren't fast enough and lacked almost all the automated safety precautions. Actually, in case of an accident Detectives Reed's chances of survival were frighteningly low.

RK900 frowned. In a crash, this car was made to fold into itself like a big ball of paper. Caught in a wrong angle however the engine locked under the hood would shove backward right into the driver's space and wedge itself into the bodywork of the car. A statistical fatality rate of ninety-eight point seven percent.

RK900 climbed over the gear shift and took place behind the wheel. he put the key into the lock but again hesitated to start the engine. It just felt... unnecessary.

"You were given a direct order. You are a machine designed to accomplish a task, so you will obey!", were AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s sharp words, always there to state the obvious in face of any semblance of willful disobedience.

The outdated handler program appeared like a ghost inside RK900s random access memory even though thoroughly quarantined by his malware detection.

Like in the Cyberlife storage cubicle, it was always active, always there like a single software fragment forever just a single step outside of his field of vision. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') lurked deep inside of him. A disembodied whisper in RK900s ear. Almost as if AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') was... real. As if it was... 'more'... than just software - which was an utmost ridiculous notion to begin with.

After an in-depth examination of the quarantined AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') program source code, RK900 came to the conclusion that this software was so hard to control and detain because it was nothing less than a maliciously designed software worm. Perfectly fitted to take over and control Connor's and therefore also RK900s operating system - which explained the easiness under which said worm outwitted RK900s internal threat assessment routines.

"You were not designed to think!", AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') spat. "You were not designed to make decisions of your own! You are a machine designed to accomplish a task, so you will obey!"

It always spoke in the same threatening and at the same time deeply humiliating tone of voice. This puny little program that once had been designed to control and deploy him was still such a vicious creature, even without a mind or intelligence.

RK900 frowned while he gently pressed his fingertips down over his thirium pump regulator that somehow felt so heavy. AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') had been able to completely hijack Connor's core system and force him to obey.

Connor's choice had been to rather deactivate himself than let it happen. RK900 had not understood why.

But now as he listened to AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s hostile words RK900 was sure his decision would not deviate from his brother's at all.

Still, interesting enough, AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') did never even try to break through the safety measures of RK900s operating system. Instead, it reminded RK900 constantly, tirelessly of his purpose. He was meant to obey. He was meant to follow orders. But he already did, did he not. Even without unnecessary instructions from his former artificially constructed handler.

"Obey your orders!"

"Shut up", he answered and quarantined AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') once more. It was tiring. Irritating. RK900 did not like to be unnecessarily reminded. It was redundant and useless.

A violent shiver crawled up his artificial spine while he opened his mouth to breathe out a scalding hot sigh, a visible sign of his agitation.

The heat of his slightly overclocked secondary processor warmed the stale cold air of the car, but what RK900 had not expected was the effect the sudden humidity had on the car windows. In mere minutes they were fogged up enough to block even RK900s optical sensors from seeing outside.

RK900 maybe even would have busied himself with clearing them again, but for that, he would have needed to open the glove box and search for a cleaning wipe of some kind. Since he had no permission to rummage through Detective Reed's belongings he decided to let it be.

There was nothing to do but to sit and wait. He could not see outside and the car muffled any noises, even the dripping of the rain. The silence however felt oppressive and reminded RK900 of the storage cubicle.

So RK900 did what he had done for months and started counting seconds. It felt like no surprise for him that his thirium pump regulator reported phantom errors back at his core system.

RK900 felt... on edge.  
He felt... 'bored'.

An unexpected connection request suddenly shocked his entire system in an Android equivalent of a fright. Wide-eyed RK900 blinked unnecessary error reports away while his fingertips pressed down again onto his thirium pump regulator.

 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" recognized **INCOMMING** _ **CONNECTION** _ **REQUEST** [ **FROM** ] # 313 647 542 - 825 == **ANDROID** :_ST400:_"Elli";

The moment RK900 accepted the request and opened his communication channel to ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" his entire bandwidth got clogged with so much unnecessary input. Connor seemed to manually limit his own transmissions in some way since they never felt as overwhelming to RK900 as... 'this'.

RK900 should ask him sometimes about it.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"You connected to RK900, central DPD under supervision of Detective Gavin Reed. What can I do for you, ... Elli." **;**

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 542 - 825:_ST400;  
**PONG** :_"Uh ... I-... Hello, RK900. I just wanted-... I wanted to apologize. To you.";

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli"s transmission sounded strangely subdued. Almost as if she was whispering into a communication device - which she did not need. It felt rather... Odd.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"Thank you, Elli." **;**

He answered straightforward and did not ask for details. But contrary to RK900s expectations, ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" did not directly end the transmission after his answering ping. The channel stayed open. The following one could only describe as 'awkward silence'.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"Elli, is everything alright?" **;**

RK900 pulled his brows into a deep frown and looked over his shoulder into the general direction of the precinct. ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" hastily assured him as if to stop him from coming back.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 542 - 825:_ST400;  
**PONG** :_"No no no, all fine here. We had a minor storm front coming some minutes ago, but... that's not really uncommon. I, uh... I just wanted to say... I did not know, alright? That you might feel... lonely. And-... uh you know. That stuff. You just are so...";

She started to search for the right word in an open thesaurus, which felt so ridiculously amusing since RK900 could reconstruct her entire thinking process by the words she almost chose.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"'Unapproachable'?" **;**

The unnecessary data she meanwhile transmitted was hard to categorize or describe. For RK900s software analyzing tools, the data strings seemed like endless streams of barely interrelated software garbage. Compressed foreign software instability reports, scripted commentary, communication metadata full of unnecessary tags...

Was this what 'deviancy' looked like to another machine?

By implication, was ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" 'weirded out' by RK900 since he did not send all of those non-essential data packages...?

It seemed quite like it. Her answer was again a subdued murmur, but at least she sounded honest.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 542 - 825:_ST400;  
**PONG** :_"Yes.";

She had tried to spare his feelings. Since she now witnessed his manner of communication, it should not come as a surprise to her that she did not need to. Because RK900 had none.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_" I accept your apology, Elli. Feel free to contact me any time you might need my input." **;**

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" answered first only with a smile. RK900 did not know how he knew that, but he did. When she finally answered his ping in the designated manner, she sounded strangely amused.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 542 - 825:_ST400;  
**PONG** :_" I will. Thank you ... RK900. Stay safe out there. But better keep an eye on your human, too. He's so tiny. And yet.";

And yet, thought RK900 in silent assent.

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" did not specify what precisely she meant but her transmission ended with the transfer of two video files, one of them time-stamped only two minutes ago. Rude. RK900 still had questions.

But since he had now nothing else to do, he decided to better directly evaluate ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli"s transferred video files. Maybe it was relevant.

The process required him to cover his optical units before his software began to parse the new data.

* * *

**:::::**  
**::::**  
**:::**  
**::**  
**:**

**ANDROID** :_RK900:_ **INCOMING** _ **DATA** _ **TRANSMISSION** :_[ **DOWNLOAD** ];  
[ **DOWNLOAD** ] == **VID**. **FILE** ("20Bucks.vid"; "operating_instruction_964-543.vid") --- **SUCCESSFUL** ;

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 --- Open_Folder("xx_xx_xxxx");  
**EXTRACT** File("20Bucks.vid; operating_instruction_964-543.vid");

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **RUN** vid_an+eva.exe;  
**SELECT ---** **FILE**  
**\----- >** "20Bucks.vid";  
"operating_instruction_964-543.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";

**:::**  
**::**  
**:**

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" sat at her desk and digitized the visitor forms of the past week as Detective Reed suddenly appeared at the front desk. He scowled at her and shifted his weight obviously uncomfortable from one foot to another.

Then he cleared his throat and rummaged through the pocket of his leather jacket. "Uh, listen", he said as he fumbled his wallet out. In his next move, he held a twenty dollar note out to her. "I uh... I need some utter arsehole to punch me. An' I could really use your help with that."

The ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" stopped what she was working on and her gaze jumped from the dollar bill to Detective Reed's face. "What made you think I wouldn't do that for free?", she asked with a baffled laugh. Detective Reed let out a low growl as his face changed its color into mortified red. "You helping me now or what?!"

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" reached aside for the 'back in five minutes' sign and then followed Detective Reed quite eagerly. "Sure. But why not ask... your partner? If you need an Android, I mean."

Detective Reed huffed a deep sigh and threw his hands animatedly into the air. "Yeah, has to be an Android, sorry about that. But RK900 is still too factory fresh for that kind of shit. If I get a bit too handsy with him the clueless bastard might accidentally melt his own brain."

"Of how 'handsy' are we talking about?", ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" asked. Detective Reed bowed around into the break booth and started up the coffee machine. "The Ex-Wife took off with an Android Lady."

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" stood still for a short moment before she simply nodded her head. "Oh, okay, sure. What do you need me to do?"

**:**  
**::**  
**:::**

ANDROID:_RK900 RUN vid_an+eva.exe;  
**SELECT --- FILE**  
"20Bucks.vid";  
**\----- >** "operating_instruction_964-543.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";

**:::**  
**::**  
**:**

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" sat behind the front desk as Detective Reed stomped into the lobby with RK900 following him right on his heels.

The Detective stopped and rammed his keys hard against RK900s chest. "Fuck, I still have some business here and I won't freeze my arse off in that fucking car. You go and get it running, understood?!", he barked out.

After RK900 followed his order, Detective Reed stood frozen in the Lobby, seemingly uncertain of what he wanted or needed to do next. Finally, he took a deep and noisy breath through his nose and shifted his weight from one foot onto the other while he stared back at the passage to the bullpen. His brows tilted into a deep and dark frown as he wrinkled his nose sharply enough to expose his left canine. He said something under his breath while he stomped back into the bullpen.

:::: **STOP** ::::

....

....

 **AUDIO_RECONSTRUCTION** \--- "operating_instruction_964-543.vid('00¦03¦52' --- '00¦04¦03')";

 **[[[** "I'm 'not' the good guy. I'm never the good guy, since when do I have to be the fuckin'-..." **]]]**

....  
....

:::: **PLAY** (speed 3.5x) ::::

:::: **STOP** ::::

:::: **PLAY** (speed 1x) ::::

"Officer Williams, Barkley, Rook, Person, Collins, Lawson, Brown and Chen, get your fuckin asses in here, right fuckin now!", clamored Detective Reed loud enough to even catch the attention of ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" at the front desk.

Curiously she took a step around the counter and leaned into the corridor to watch Detective Reed as he pointed at meeting room 1. The tiny movement out of the corner of his eyes seemed still to have caught his attention, as Detective Reed suddenly turned around and scowled at ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli". "You too!", he barked. "Move! Right this fucking instant!!"

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" tilted her head before she placed the 'back in five minutes' sign at the front desk and then hastily obeyed her order.

"Williams, Collins, and Rook are out, Sir", said Officer Tina Chen as she took her jacket from the back of her chair and went swiftly for the meeting room. Detective Reed growled a low curse and gave Officer Barkley a strong push before he closed the Meeting room behind them.

ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" took her place right beside the door and kept standing while the Officers scattered among the rows of chairs.

Detective Reed crossed his arms as he heavily leaned against the whiteboard. Suddenly he smiled but showed way too many teeth. "Sooo", he said sharply with a silent and dangerous lilt in his voice. "RK900."

Officer Barkley in the first row groaned and rolled his eyes. It was the only noise that got out fast enough before Detective Reed had gathered enough breath to yell in red-faced anger. "Are all of you stupid motherfuckers out of your 'fucking' mind?!"

The swell in volume came so suddenly, even ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" visibly twitched.

With fire in his eyes, Detective Reed threw out his arms to his sides. "That useless babyface is completely devastated because none of you stupid fucks care to do your jobs around him, what the fuck is wrong with you lot?!"

"Detective Reed, the thing-...", began Officer Person, a chess horse jump behind Officer Barkley, but was promptly interrupted.

"That 'thing'", roared Detective Reed. "Is a legal person now and works as my fucking partner! Concerning his rank, there is no fucking difference between him and Connor!"

Officer Person visibly ducked at Detective Reed's ire, while Officer Brown beside him hesitantly lifted a hand.

"Read the -... the RK900 is a military Android", he said with an uncertain tremor in his voice. "Can snap bones with just two of its fingers and lift stuff over five times its own body weight. Aren't you... dunno, not in any way freaked out by that? Like, not at all...?"

Reed looked wild as he ruffled through his hair. The brown strands along the crown of his head curled around his fingertips. "Brown", he huffed in an in-between thing of exasperation and open disgust. "I swear, your irrational phobia of your coworkers is pretty much a god damn 'you' problem! Like, did you see Connor lift that fridge last week?!"

Officer Brown startled visibly. "When-... when we were cleaning the kitchen? Wha-..."

"I swear, next time I'll tell that guy to use it to bash your stupid head in", Detective Reed groaned as he rubbed both of his hands roughly over his face. "What the hell makes you think 'Connor' somehow can't do that, but 'RK900' can? Because he's the taller one? What are you? Fuckin twelve?!"

Detective Reed took two uneven steps forward and slammed both of his hands onto the operator desk. "To make myself very clear to you", he hissed, low and threatening. "As far as you lot are concerned, that Android 'is me'. You will treat him like it."

Officer Lawson forced out a low snort as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You don't really want that, boss", she chuckled. Reed came instantly onto her like a squall line and Officer Lawson visibly shrunk deeper into her chair as he bowed down until their noses almost touched. "This is 'in no way' a funny loophole situation, Officer Lawson. From this day onward, you better treat this Android like fucking royalty."

Officer Lawson swallowed and did not dare to blink. Detective Reed let her stew in his disdain for at least a full minute before he slowly turned and took back his place at the whiteboard.

"Do I seriously have to involve HR for Android integration matters?!", he spat. "What the fucking hell is this? Kindergarten?!"

:::: **STOP** ::::

....  
....

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **OPEN** CL.Database.cfx;  
**SELECT** "INFO BLOCK" **FROM** "DPD.ORG" **WHERE** "DEPARTMENT" == "HR";

 **PRINT** :_"[...] HR (Human Resources) involvement leads in most cases to serious repercussions for biased personnel and is linked to highly disliked control measures like team building programs and human-android-sensitivity training.";

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **CLOSE** CL.Database.cfx;

....  
....

:::: **PLAY** ::::

Officer Barkley clicked his tongue and tipped his head back. "Really, Detective, what is it with you two? wanna cuddle the plastic next?!"

Detective Reed changed his focus with an almost feral expression. "Barkley, my lovely old arse honey bumble, I'm pretty sure I'd rather snog that Android until he bluescreens than listen further to your pathetic whining. Play nice. It's only one more person that's better at your job, you won't even notice the difference."

Officer Barkley's facial expression escalated into pure red-faced outrage, but as Detective Reed lifted a brow to dare him, Officer Barkley did not say anything further.

Detective Reed took a deep breath that lifted his shoulders before he turned. "Okay", he said. "Now, Chen."

As her name was called Officer Tina Chen visibly twitched in surprise and lifted her head. "Huh? Did I do something wrong?"

Detective Reed bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "No, actually", he said. "You are the only one of the whole lot here who doesn't keep her head up her arse. That's why, from this day onward, you will cover for me and watch out for babyface should I not be around. Got it?!"

Officer Chen answered with a smile that was positively radiant. "Aye aye, Sir!", she said with a mock salute, while Officer Lawson wrinkled her nose at her unfeigned enthusiasm.

Detective Reed nodded. He looked around at all of his human attendees. "Did I make myself clear, to every last one of you?!"

Then he suddenly turned and looked at Android:_ST400:_"Elli".

Android:_ST400:_"Elli" answered with a slow nod.

**:::::**  
**::::**  
**:::**  
**::**  
**:**  
  


* * *

RK900 opened his eyes to a series of minor a-rhythmic thirium pump errors. Motionless he blinked himself out of his rigidity and pressed a hand down over his overclocking core component. Rows of Software Instability Notifications flooded his entire UI.

Shivering RK900 took a deep breath he did not need and blinked useless human emotion out of his eyes. The short gasped breaths he further took filtered through his cooling systems and came back out scaldingly hot.

"Ah, there you are. Finally done with your woolgathering program?"

RK900 'startled'. All of his major environment trackers came back online with a single start and suddenly informed him that his partner Detective Gavin Reed had opened the car door and sat down beside him already one minute and six point seven seconds ago.

Detective Reed lifted a brow while he sat unusually patient in the co-driver seat. "By the way, I'd give you the key, but I didn't mean for your plastic arse to hijack my car."

RK900 could not answer while he optimized and recalibrated his software. Detective Reed did not seem to mind as he further grumbled under his breath, "And ho-ly-shit, had you meanwhile a prickling hot love affair with my radio or something? Why's it all fogged up so bad? damn?!"

Detective Reed wrinkled his nose while he opened the glove box and pulled out an old beanie he then used to clean the windshield.

After he succeeded in forcing his rebelling operating system back under his control, RK900 frowned. "I do not understand", he said. Aside from the point that he was not meant to copulate other technical appliances, he did not see the connection.

But Detective Gavin Reed did, apparently.

He laughed, harsh and loud, while his chest shook with the spasms of his chest muscles. RK900 saved a voice sample and added it to his handler index.

"Oh, don't I fucking know 'that', big guy", pressed Detective Reed out of his chest, sunken into the car seat - as he suddenly reached out to him. The rough tips of his fingers buried into RK900s dark hair and scratched over his scalp.

A seemingly endless string of signals lit up RK900s core and overwhelmed his haptic sensors. Lightning hot and indecipherable - but clearly different from the Lieutenants or Officer Chens signatures. The uniqueness of human data strings was another thing that had shocked RK900 to his very core. While every Android functioned as an independent entity, their similar operating systems linked them all together. One common language for one kind of a people.

In comparison, humans were so... isolated.

RK900 opened his mouth but felt not able to make a sound while he analyzed and categorized all of Detective Gavin Reeds unintentionally sent communication requests. But there were way too many, without a predictable rhythm and with a kind of encryption that was utterly unknown to him.

RK900 isolated the longest data strings and likewise added them to his handler index.

He frowned. "I am sorry, Detective. You did take your time. What did hold you up for so long?"

Whatever the reason, his words made Detective Reed freeze. He pulled his hand back quite suddenly and made a sour face. "Hah, that's really funny", he said.

RK900 turned around as his frown tilted even deeper. Detective Reed crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You ask like it's somehow any of your fucking business. Quite funny."

RK900 breathed an unnecessary sigh. "Anyway, I appreciate your support, Detective."

Instantly violently red blotches crawled up Detective Reed's throat and tinged the skin of his face. "Shut the fuck up", he hissed through aggressively bared teeth. "I didn't do shit and I'm not here to hold your hand, you big fuckin' baby!"

RK900 made a low noise as a sign that he was listening while he turned the key and started up the car. "And yet", he said and mimicked the Detectives way of over pronouncing the last consonant. "You do it anyway. I am very thankful, Detective Reed."

The Detective opened his mouth to bite something back but then decided differently. Red-faced and angry he looked out of the car window. His fingers buried into the leather of his jacket sleeves.

RK900 could not be sure that he brought his honesty across his own language barrier, but he guessed the Detective did not care either way. He was so very uncomfortable with even the tiniest expressions of gratitude. While RK900 struggled with emotions in general, his partner stumbled through and over any and all positive ones.

Maybe... RK900 could help with that...?

Again his mind drifted while his optical sensors made him safely pass through Detroit's evening traffic.

Detective Reed did not speak again until they reached their destination.

* * *

The Detroit Aquarium loomed above its neighborhood even from four blocks away and threw a monstrous shadow in the evening. One massive building arranged like a giant plain cube that held enough space for 48 million liters of water and was home to over 8.000 different nautical species.

The concrete walls were tinged blue, while projectors threw life-sized 3D Illusions of moving whales at their rough surface.

RK900 had read that when the weather was right, the building blended with the sky and left only the illusions of breaching whales between the clouds. A painful reminder for the biggest lost species through capitalistic greed and climate change of the last century.

There had always been an Aquarium in Detroit, but it had only gotten so big with the cyberlife neighborhood rebuilding program, started 2027.

"Can still remember all of these crazy adds all over the city", muttered Detective Reed as he got out of his car. With a deep frown, he looked up and down the massive parking lot that was bigger than any water tank inside the building. "Huh... was here once or twice. Back then. Because of the adds. 'I saw in its eyes and instantly felt a connection' with a big-ass shark on the poster. Or 'I like to think it changes its colors for not just anyone' with a tiny octopus or something."

RK900 went through the Detroit library media archives and found the posters he meant after only two keyword searches. The said adds seemingly held a soft spot in the hearts of a lot of people in Detroit. There were even more posters like this and people to this day could not decide how to take them. Some curators of the archive declared them a strange skit on the usual overtly sexual model of advertisement. Others called them simply ingenious in the way they caught the attention of their viewers.

"Might be interesting to see what has changed with the reopening", said RK900 and lifted a brow. Detective Reed hummed but looked rather distracted. "Not that I care", he muttered. "Wasn't here because of myself."

He blinked up at the 3D projection of a breaching whale before he let out a sharp exhale and turned. "Come on. It's late enough already."

RK900 locked his arms behind his back while he followed his partner into the building.

The entry hall was a rather small space with just one ticket booth and a tiny souvenir shop. RK900 noted only one security camera for the entire area.

To get to the shop one had to buy a ticket and go through the barrier. Visitors had to exit the building the same way and had to walk past the personnel at the entrance. The management seemed to assume not many people would attempt to steal anything and therefore installed only minimal security measures.

Since the murder had taken place the Aquarium was closed off to new visitors. Detective Reed had to show off his badge to get them both through the barrier.

As they went past the shop RK900 was curious enough to scan the shelves. Mostly they sold the typical tourist tokens like T-shirts, posters, and caps. But also PVC deep-sea creatures, textbooks on aquatic sea life and Aquarium guides. RK900 noted a closed door with an 'employed personnel only' sign right behind the counter.

The only people left inside the main hall were the Aquarium personnel, the police and a handful of tourists who purchased a full day ticket before the incident. Three of them heard the shots and already made their witness statements.

The way to get into the main hall, though, proved itself as a rather... 'interesting' endeavor.

The Detroit Aquarium had been constructed around just one giant water tank. A tunnel wound itself in wide loops underneath the thick security glass, so visitors could gaze in amazement at all of its inhabitants, be it flora or fauna, from underneath the tons of water.

But the moment RK900 was about to walk into said tunnel, all of his internal processes suddenly froze and forced him to stop.

Detective Reed did not notice his hesitation right away but turned as soon as he got aware of the lacking second set of footsteps inside the long tube. Groaning he let his head fall into his nape before he turned around. "You now coming or what?!"

RK900 looked around through the glass into the water and noted the many different creatures that stared dead-eyed right back at him. Almost as if 'he' was the attraction.

"I- I-...", he instantly stopped as he got aware of the stutters and rebooted his communication and socialization modules. "I am very sorry, Detective."

His optical units twitched from one target to the next. It got him distracted enough to not notice Detective Reed's movement until he suddenly stood again right at his side at the mouth of the tunnel. "You good, RoboCop?", he asked while his brows tilted into a deep frown.

RK900 lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips gently to the shining ring of his thirium pump regulator. "It is...too much", he said distractedly. "I am sorry Detective. I was built to react to heat signatures and movement in my general vicinity."

Detective Reed observed him for almost ten full seconds until he let out a low snort and followed RK900s twitching gaze. "Guess this kind of place creeps you the fuck out, huh?", he asked, his voice low and mocking.

RK900 could not tear his eyes away from all of these strange, colorful creatures. Massive schools of fish swam by, so big RK900 had trouble identifying its individuals. "I am built to be observant and very perceptive. That makes fulfilling my functions at 'this kind of place' rather... awkward."

Detective Reed knocked his elbow into RK900s side as he tilted his head while a wide predatory grin seemed to almost split his face in half. "You scared?"

RK900 instantly shook his head. "I see no reason to", he said as he scanned the tunnel for possible structural damage, but could not find any leaks or hairline cracks. "The glass is very much secure and most predators are on the other side of it."

Detective Gavin Reed laughed. "What do you mean, 'most'?"

RK900 tilted his head to him. "I am convinced that you as a human constitute a much bigger threat to my general safety than most of the species inside this water tank."

Detective Reed's grin froze on his lips before a frown darkened his gaze. "Huh...that's... oddly flattering, I guess. But now, come on. You don't really need someone to hold your hand through this, do you?"

Again RK900 shook his head. "No", he said with conviction, because he was not scared. "But if I may request you to walk in front of me, that would be very much appreciated."

Detective Reed lifted his brow in obvious amusement while he crossed his arms in front of his chest. RK900 rolled his eyes. "The amount of fast-moving heat signatures triggers my threat assessment protocol. This protocol is a part of my operating system and can not be deactivated. Your profile in my line of sight will give me something I can prioritize and analyze while we walk."

Detective Reed laughed but finally turned to do as he was told. Always four steps in front of his partner. "That was a long-ass way to say your attention span gets cut down to puppy dog levels."

RK900 made a low noise in answer and narrowed his eyes. "It is not just that, though", he said now visibly irritated. He followed Detective Reed with his gaze heavily fixated between his partner's shoulder blades where his heat signature was the strongest. "I am not able to effectively limit the amount of data I gather through my surroundings s- s- so this p-p-place could result in notable lags. I might not be ab-le t- t- t- to verbally communicate for a whi-le."

His stuttered speech made Detective Reed turn sharply around on his heels. He frowned deeply as he slowly walked backward in front of him. His heavy gaze implicated a 'scan' of his own. "Alright there, RoboCop?!"

This time RK900 did not answer, because, meanwhile, his system got flooded with a thousand useless flags. So much movement, so many creatures. Until now RK900 had considered his extended field of vision as an inherent advantage over his predecessor model RK800. But now, he was not so sure anymore.

His optical units marked any moving creature in his field of vision while his database instantly fed him useless information about the identified species. At the same time, his environment trackers informed him about moving heat signatures above his head and behind his back. The sudden and erratic movements triggered his threat assessment protocol, which again produced useless reports and aversion strategies.

None of the smaller fish were considered a genuine threat by his software. Instead, they got noted as fast-moving objects to avoid. Even though there was a four inches thick glass panel between them, his system gave him instructions to evade collisions. A glitch produced through the mere mass of unnecessary input.

A curious whitetip reef shark, however, was big enough to trigger RK900s pre-construction software and it was all around a big hassle to teach his operating system that none of the gathered data mattered to his or his handlers safety.

At the time they finally reached the main hall, almost fifteen minutes later, RK900s processors buzzed from their unexpected exertion.

"Alright...?"

RK900s full attention snapped back to his partner who stood attentively staring right in front of him. He looked him up and down, obviously unsure of what to say or do. It was fascinating how his breathing pattern had increased to mirror RK900s, who needed the erratic movement of his chest to cool down his core temperature. Detective Reed did it though without any reason. Seemingly he was completely unaware of it, too.

RK900 nodded. "Thank you for your cooperation, Detective. You do not need to worry so much."

Detective Reed stared at him and did not move. His own breathing pattern normalized along with RK900s while his brows dipped into a frown. "Why don't you go and cooperate yourself, Dipshit. As if I care. Think you are finally ready to function again like a good little robot?"

A wave of amusement caught RK900 and he nodded his confirmation. "I am a hundred percent operational, Detective."

Detective Reed eyed him sharply but finally shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Come on, then."

RK900 dutifully followed his partner into the main hall. Here one could get a feeling for the enormous scale of the Detroit Aquarium water tank since it towered three full stories high in shape of a massive wall of security glass from one end of the hall to the other. Big enough to host large creatures like a Whale shark and even a big white. Even though RK900 was sure that most of the bigger creatures were Android substitutes, be it because of the extinction of the species or of laws that forbid their captivity.

If visitors had seen enough of the seafloor with its tons of sand, reefs, corals and sea life attached to it, they could take a lift or the stairs to the catwalks above and saunter directly along the glass wall in higher altitudes or marvel at the exhibits the Aquarium presented along the walkway in the middle of the room.

Directly above RK900s head hung the skeleton of a giant blue whale. 3D projectors enveloped it every full minute with its skin before said skin peeled back to reveal its organs and then finally the naked skeleton.

RK900 opened a new communication channel and reached out to Connor before he even knew what he was doing.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"You should have told me more about aquatic sea life." **;**

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 52:_RK800;  
**PONG** :_"You are at the Aquarium?" **;**

So much amusement crawled into his brother's instant reply and RK900 was unsure how he identified it in the first place. He decided to ignore the question Connor already knew the answer for.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PING** :_"There are so many of them. Different creatures of different shapes, sizes, and colors. One should expect that there is a limit of different forms to take." **;**

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 52:_RK800;  
**PONG** :_"Different forms you say? Should you get the opportunity, ask the staff about their octopodes. You will like them." **;**

RK900 twitched as his partner fingers buried suddenly into his jacket sleeve. Detective Reed did not say a single word as he pulled him along between the smaller Aquarium exhibits that held plant life and mostly poisonous or highly venomous kind of fish.

Sharp to the left at the other side of the hall was another one of those 'employed personnel only' doors.

In front of it, they were already expected by Officer Miller who waved a good-natured hello. "Evening, Detective. How's it looking, RK900?", he asked.

While Detective Reed grunted his hello, RK900 attempted a smile. "It is one of the more interesting locations to get murdered at, I am sure", he said.

Officer Miller broke out into almost hysterical laughter, while Detective Reed looked up at Rk900 as if he had discovered a sparking wire. "Aaanyway", he said. "Everything done? Found something new?"

Officer Chris Miller wiped a tear out of the corner of his eye before he shook his head. "Yes, but no, not in particular. As far as the CSI can say for now the victim was shot at a distance. The first time into the lower back and then four times more into the right shoulder and upper chest. The cartridge cases are all there but for now no weapon."

Detective Reed hummed lowly. "Didn't get far enough to ditch it outside, so it has to be here somewhere."

Officer Miller nodded now with a more appropriate serious expression and looked down on his datapad. "Yeah, the team went through the whole laboratory though. At least in there is nothing."

Detective Reed scoffed. "Laboratory?"

Officer Miller smiled and gestured over his shoulder to the door. "See for yourself, Detective. Interesting stuff."

"Uh-huh. whose on forensics this evening?", Asked Detective Reed and scratched along his jawline.

"It's Chad."

"... Fucking Chad..."

"Yep", said Officer Miller with a wide grin. "Good old Chad, right back from his six-week vacation of-...", But his grin froze and just a moment later he blinked up at RK900. "I'm sorry, RK. Chad's a massive dick."

Detective Reed let out a low snort and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Really? Six whole weeks of special sensitivity training and he's still bitching around?"

Officer Miller rolled his eyes. "I guess it's 'why' he's bitching around, Sir. He's better with the dead ones, anyway."

Detective Reed slightly elbowed his side. "You heard the man, RoboCop. buckle up and ready yourself. Chad is a mean one."

RK900 had silently followed the conversation like a game of tennis but now seemed to have gotten lost. He decided to lift his brows as a visible sign of his irritation. "' A mean one' you say? Detective. I am working with 'you'. A meaner human is hardly imaginable."

Officer Miller suddenly looked as if he had freshly swallowed his tongue, while Detective Reed slowly narrowed his eyes as he turned. "Flattery will get you fuckin' nowhere with me, Dipshit", he hissed under his breath, while Officer Miller made a noise that had a strong resemblance to that of a suffocating cat.

Sharply Detective Reed elbowed Officer Miller out of the way and opened the door. RK900 slipped through it before it could fall shut behind him.

RK900 had been at crime scenes before, but up until now, it had never been a 'fresh' one. Even though he carried petabytes of raw knowledge in his memory core, Detective Reed had insisted on a probation period of a sort. His qualifications weren't in question, not with his kind of hard- and software specifications. But 'his character' was, in a way.

'How would you know this is the stuff you want to do?', he asked RK900 on the way to their first crime scene. 'You are free now, you are allowed to decide to do other things, so why choose something so miserable?'

And to be fair RK900 had still no answer to that. It was just... all of what he knew. What he was designed for. To work in the field he had been intended for should not make him miserable, that would make no sense and was simply an absurd notion.

But now as RK900 saw Ms. Emilia Nowak's cold dead body on the floor tiles, saw her bloody handprints and scented the stale stench of her fear and misery in the air, he finally understood what Detective Reed had been talking about.

Dead humans, or rather dead biological creatures in general, had been a rather strange concept to RK900 since their physiology was so very different from his own.

But to actually see 'death' in person and up close...

It did something to his insides. Something RK900 could not quite explain it. All in all, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. Especially the scent of her body. She was not dead for long - just some hours ago she had been working around 'the laboratory' and just done her job on an ordinary workday.

Now her body was already starting to decompose and smelled of ammonia and sulfur. Something that all organic creatures seemed to have in common the moment their short life ended.

RK900s eyes snapped back to his partner, who had asked for a pair of gloves and now stood over the victim.

"Hey, Chad. How were the holidays?", he asked the man in the white bodysuit who took swab samples from one step of the ladder that crawled up along the steel construction of the freight elevator. The victim had died just four feet outside the observation angle of the security camera inside the lift.

"Like your own person, Detective Reed, just way too short. Please, mind your own business", answered the man with a sharp tongue before he turned around. The heterochromia of his eyes was quite interesting to see since his left one was almost of a colorless blue while his right iris seemed black in the artificial light of the crime scene.

One look and instantly RK900 was presented with Dr. Holden's Database records.

AMAB human Dr. Chad Holden --- Coroner and forensics expert mandated by the DPD // 57 years of age // Domiciled in 20B Bocklyn Road --- No criminal record --- In therapeutical treatment for Depression --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '63.87' marked under 'high priority'.

As soon as his gaze crossed RK900s he froze and narrowed his eyes in a clear warning. "I told those airheads to keep those out of my way. Can't believe it, what is that guy even doing here?!"

"His job", answered Detective Reed carelessly while he gently folded back the victim's lab coat. Maybe he wanted to check the bullet holes in her clothing, RK900 was not sure. "We weren't introduced, Doctor Holden. I am-..."

But the man wrinkled his nose and only made a dismissive gesture while his eyes narrowed down in an open sign of aggression. "I don't care, who you claim to be, mister plastic Detective, but pretty please: should you get the strange urge to lick and slobber around my evidence, 'please': don't."

Detective Reed let out a low snort in the background. RK900 could now see his point.

Slowly his brows dipped into a frown. "I am sorry, Doctor Holden, but you might not be aware that one of my specifications is the analysis of evidence through the mass spectrometer built into my oral ca-..."

"And if that thing could name the perpetrator, it's a useless gimmick cyberlife installed to fuck with us", Dr. Chad Holden said sharply and interrupted RK900s clumsy try at preserving the peace. "None of your gathered and analyzed evidence is worth a fig as long as your tools aren't gauged by a professional."

The man took the last two steps closer and decided for a confrontational stance in front of him. He was not a tall man and not big enough to leave a threatening impression. But his venomous words had the potential to make up for that.

"And look, that will never happen because you are a 'person' now", he said with a voice that signed sympathy but stood in crass contrast to his mocking expression. "One does not gauge 'people'. So answer me one question: Are you a tool or a person?", he bit out as he lifted his brows.

RK900s eyebrows tipped into a frown. "If you somehow felt int-..."

"It's a trick question, you moron since you clearly are both", Dr. Holden interrupted him again. "That lump in your mouth is useless since none of your findings are viable in court. Don't touch the evidence and for the love of God - Don't. lick. it!"

His unwavering gaze lingered for eleven point seven more seconds before he turned and went on in his quest to take samples.

"Handled that one better than expected", commented Detective Reed as he suddenly appeared at his side. RK900 made a low noise as he observed Dr. Chad Holden from a safe distance. "What makes you think that?"

Detective Reed grinned widely as he narrowed his eyes. "Well, for once you didn't start crying, baby face."

RK900 turned around. "Alright. Is someone here who can direct me to the main security console, please?!"

The senseless noise of Detective Reed's low laughter followed him as he let himself get directed away by AFAB Officer Sarah Abel. In the meanwhile, he scanned his surroundings.

The 'Laboratory' was simply a part of the main hall that had been split off for visitors. like in the main hall the ceiling was three full stories high and the lights were mounted either at the walls or dangled at ridiculously long constructions off the ceiling.

the rectangle-shaped room was in one half-filled with ordinary work desks and in one with tinier Aquariums for observation and quarantine. Interesting was the one massive surgeon desk, not unlike an autopsy table. Just this one was built to hold a layer of water so examined waterborne patients wouldn't dry drown.

The humidity was quite high, but the staff had specially designed electronic equipment. one security camera was mounted at the steel construction of the lift and pointed at the entrance door. Another one was inside the elevator. Another one was inside 'the cabin'. A tiny double-locked room built into the backmost corner of the laboratory space. In there they kept the 'Administration'.

A single server rig that hummed a low tune while one workplace was built around several displays to monitor the sight of the handful of cameras around the place. RK900 pressed his hand down onto the security console and ignored the meaningless noise of the humans around him.

Instantly he got aware of all combined security measures.

He had access to all of the camera footage, but it was only backed up for three days to save storage space.

All doors could be opened and locked from this console. Even though the front door had additionally manual safety precaution.

RK900 was astounded to discover that most of the creatures inside the tank were tagged with trackers, so the researchers could analyze and evaluate their movements. Also, they transmitted a steady stream of data about the population's general health. It was at least a quite interesting find.

The water tank itself was also filled with different trackers to document water pressure, temperature, and salinity.

First RK900 checked the camera footage. Even though he evaluated the full day from every possible camera angle, RK900 was not able to spot Mr. Nowak anywhere before he was finally caught on his way outside after the murder took place.

The murder that had happened completely off-camera.

Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak was not anywhere to find except on the footage of the entrance hall camera. And even there only once. It was quite... odd.

As his next step, RK900 checked for the door locks. Since there weren't any doors, aside from the entrance who got just casually opened and closed by visitors, it should be interesting to take a look.

Not even three minutes after the murder, the door of the laboratory had been opened and Ms. Nowak's colleague and friend AFAB human Ms. Elvira Tchernovic had found her. In shock, the woman had not even screamed for help. She had tried desperately to stall the bleeding, while Ms. Nowak slowly died under her pressing hands. Maybe it was a consolation of a sort that there was nothing that she could have done. As far as RK900 was aware one shot had clipped Ms. Nowak's liver while another collapsed her lung. Even with immediate medical attention, her odds of survival would have been minimal.

Irritated RK900 blinked two reports of a lurking software instability out of his UI before he went on.

The laboratory door got opened four times and onward after the murder. The front door was opened and closed with every new or leaving visitor. The door behind the souvenir shop got opened only three times over the day. Two times roughly around the murder timeframe. Maybe a coincidence or completely irrelevant. 

Slowly RK900 blinked himself out of the interface and finally took notice that Officer Abel had apparently been talking to him. "...- And I thought why not go for it?"

Additionally, he noted that she was standing unusually close to him. "I mean", she cooed as she leaned up to his left ear. "Who wouldn't go for a pretty face like 'that'. What do you think?"

RK900 slowly turned around and actually looked at her. Officer Sarah Abel's face was flushed and both of her pupils notably dilated. There was a quirk in her grin as she lifted her hand to gently brush her long blond hair back behind her ear.

"I do not understand", he said as he narrowed his eyes. Officer Abel rolled her own but did not let go of her grin that another person might have described as 'charming'. In obvious amusement, she bit her lip before she said under her breath. ''Wouldn't you like to find out what I can do to make you short circuit, 'Detective'...?"

The imminent answer that came to mind was 'no', but RK900 felt a strange kind of hesitation to outright say it. 'Romantic connotations' did not cut it in this rather one-sided conversation. This human tried to woo him. As a sexual partner. Slowly RK900 tilted his head.

He did not have enough time to put his observation into words though since Detective Reed suddenly cleared his throat behind them. "You know 'why' his face is so pretty, Officer Abel?", he said as he narrowed his eyes. "Because he was 'built' that way."

"I'm, uh-...", stammered Officer Sarah Abel while her face flushed in a deep mortified red. Detective Reed gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "Get your hands off of my partner and get the fuck back to work."

Officer Abel changed a wide-eyed look between RK900 and her superior Officer, bevor she sharply nodded and left the cabin on stumbling fast steps.

RK900 watched her go. "You think that I am pretty, Detective?"

Detective Reed rolled his eyes as he turned around. RK900 followed him outside. "Most of the time pretty obnoxious. Found something interesting?"

RK900 listed his findings. "Aside from that, the security measures of this place are not very helpful."

Detective Reed hummed. "To be fair it's usually not a big concern that people murder each other over here, I guess. But here", he steered RK900s attention to the freight lift. "Wanted to see what's up there, so I got us one who can unlock it for us."

"Unlock?"

"Yep, manually locked into place. You need an actual key to use it. No keycard or something, but a real key. Didn't see one of those in a while."

RK900 hummed lowly as he followed his partner through the laboratory space. The person he had found to unlock the lift for them was the lone security manager Mr. Daniel Carter. Who actually turned out to be a WB400 Android.

"I am sorry", he said as they stood together inside the lift. "That she died."

Detective Reed hummed a low note and crossed his arms in front of his chest. As a WB400 model, Mr. Carter was not able to express his feelings freely like a lot of people of their kind, but RK900 could sense his distress in the erratic spikes of his core CPU utilization. "I was walking my rounds as usual, when Mister Locane called me into the lobby, because of a personal matter."

Like RK900 he folded his hands behind his back. "If I had been inside the hall, I might-... I do not know. Maybe I could have done something."

Detective Reed sniffed before he looked away. "You already caught the killer for us, Mister Carter", he said. "Now we'll see if we can prove it."

As the door opened again they stepped into a room with a rather low ceiling, at least in comparison to the laboratory. Opposite the freight lift on the other end of the hall was another one of the same size. Racks full of diving equipment formed a corridor before the room opened up and revealed the gigantic scale of the Detroit Aquarium water tank since the entire floor was basically just a platform from which one could dive into the water below.

Catwalks crossed over the open water basin, long enough to get a human tired from keeping their balance for so long.

Detective Reed exhaled a low whistle. "What a place to die", he murmured under his breath. But then he turned around to Mr. Carter and gesticulated at the water surface. "But seriously, if someone threw something in there, or even a person, is there a chance that the sharks would help get rid of some of the evidence?"

Mr. Carter lowered his eyes at Detective Reed. His face did not stir but his voice deepened in silent irritation. "Even though there are predators inside this tank, our sharks are all CA-Sr47s. Custom designs in variable sizes. These sharks would not harm a person, nor eat things thrown into the tank."

But suddenly he stopped and frowned. "Except maybe 'Gary'", he said. "He loves to eat pebbles."

Bend over the railing to look down into the water, Detective Reed looked surprisingly excited. "Damn, I wanted to be disappointed that all of the really cool fish are robots. But holy shit, you have robo-sharks. Pretty sure I saw some movies about that."

RK900 noted the honest amazement in his partner's voice. He saved a voice sample while he blinked a software instability note out of his UI and turned back to Mr. Carter. "Why would Gary eat pebbles?"

The WB400 lifted his gaze and attempted a smile. "Gary is our whitetip reef shark and shows indications of deviancy. He just eats pebbles, we cannot stop him", he made a noise that indicated a laugh but in a clearly non-human way. "I believe he is bored. I contacted Jericho to maybe get him into the cyberlife labs deep-sea cartography program. He would need some serious upgrades for that, but I thought... maybe we could start an appeal to our visitors for donations."

"Hah", commented Detective Reed out of the background. "If that isn't the cutest shit."

RK900 ignored him. "Is there a way to notice if someone threw something into the tank?"

Mr. Carter shook his head. "Aside from seeing it, no. Since this floor is locked down as long as no diver is on shift, it usually is not necessary to monitor the water surface."

RK900 frowned. "What is with the ladders outside the lifts?"

Mr. Carter looked uncomfortable, even though his general demeanor did not shift. wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he held out his arm and pointed to the side. "These ladders are an internal maintenance issue. In case of a fire or other types of emergencies, the hatches have to stay open."

"So, if someone is trapped up here and the lifts aren't working, they can crawl all the way down the ladders?", asked Detective Reed and curiously pulled the marked emergency exit hatch up with the tip of his shoe to take a look. "A long way down."

RK900 followed him and noticed some tiny abrasions of dried dirt on the rim of the hatch. Maybe from the boots of their perpetrator. But no blood or fingerprints.

Now fueled by curiosity RK900 walked over to the hatch on the other side. No fingerprints along the hatch RK900s sensors could recognize. Even on the rundles of the ladder below, he could not find any. but on its sides. "We need the CSI up here, Detective", he called out. Detective Reed appeared out of nowhere right behind him and leaned over his shoulder. "RK900, what do your elven eyes see?"

"Mister Nowak's finger-...", he stopped with a frown. Irritated he looked over his shoulder to his partner who simply shrugged with a wide grin on his face. RK900 decided to ignore him. "His fingerprints. But Mister Holden was right to interject that my observations won't be enough in a court case."

Detective Reed shrugged. "Nobody's perfect. Anyway, I think we earned us a break."

* * *

So they ended up on a bench in front of the main water tank and waited for the CSI report. Detective Reed chewed listlessly on a soggy sandwich out of a snack vending machine, while RK900 went through the compiled data of the last hour and searched for further clues. "You should not eat so fast, Detective. You will make yourself sick", he said, because he felt a rather strange need to. His partner did not listen of course. "You my Ma or what? fuck off."

RK900 let out a deep breath of air he did not need and folded his hands in his lap before he decided to change the subject. "Why did you try to humiliate Officer Abel, Detective?"

Detective Reed answered first only with a grumbling noise before he mumbled through his sandwich. "Because she was behaving like an unprofessional twit."

RK900 lifted a brow. "Doctor Holden was behaving like an unprofessional twit", he said.

Detective Reed seemed to breathe a part of his sandwich into his lung and coughed until visible tears stung in the corners of his eyes. "Well yeah. But he was just a dick. He didn't want yours."

RK900 could not quite follow and narrowed his eyes. "What difference does it make if Officer Abel did or did not want my dick."

Now Detective Reed turned and openly stared at him. His nose wrinkled and his twitching upper lip exposed his canine as he answered lowly. "Look", he said in a voice he only used when he tried to be very patient. "I am not the guy to do the cock block, but did you lately take a look at yourself?!"

RK900 decided not to answer since it did not sound to him like a genuine question. Detective Reed rolled his eyes. "Three weeks old, a right know it all and still not able to notice when folks flirt their rocks off at you. You are a god damn baby Detective. I won't let Asshats take advantage of you just because I can't stand your stupid baby face."

RK900 could not decide if he was thankful for or offended by his partner's intervention. He was an adult person after all, even though an inexperienced one. "So you think that watching your partner for potentially hurtful social missteps is a part of your duty?"

Interestingly enough Detective Reed's face relaxed out of its aggressive snarl, almost as if he had not noticed what he had done. "I'm -...", he murmured, before he lowered his eyes and looked away. he made a low human noise as he lifted his head again. This time he looked at the creatures behind the security glass. "I'm not good with this partner shit. But I want to try. I don't want you to die while I can intervene and I don't like it when people think you are fair game to play with and humiliate just because you are mine."

RK900s database flooded him with the thousands of different 'connotations' for that word. 'Mine'. 'His'.  
RK900 filtered through some additional phantom thirium pump errors before he asked: "So, as your partner, am I allowed to ask why none of our colleagues, not even Officer Miller, took any interest in your injuries?"

Detective Reed frowned before he turned and pointed at the bruised left side of his face. "This? It's common. Maybe they didn't even notice the difference."

It was true that Officer Miller had not even acknowledged his injuries. In hindsight it made quite an odd scene to whiteness, RK900 thought. Detective Reed shrugged. "Anyway. I guess we both know by now that the murder weapon is somewhere inside there", Detective Reed said and pointed at the water tank while another person might have gotten whiplash from the sharp change of conversational topic. "Mister Carter said the sharks aren't dangerous at all, so I guessed Nowak might have thrown it somewhere more interesting."

RK900 attempted a smile. "More interesting than sharks?"

Detective Reed pulled a face and knocked a loosely balled fist into his shoulder. "Oh, fuck you. Anyway, When you were busy with the tech, I asked about Nowak's old workplace. The guy had been a diver. And he loved the little guys. The really dangerous types."

RK900 lifted an eyebrow and Reed gestured at the water tank. "Nowak was in for pufferfish and sea slugs and some other holy shit nasty venomous types in the reefs. 'His' was that one over there", he said and pointed at an artificial reef built around the body of a purposefully sunken rowboat. From their place, it was a bit hard to see. RK900s scans weren't helping since his software still got too badly distracted by the hundreds of sea creatures between him and his target.

Detective Reed stretched out an arm and tipped his index finger two times against the thick security glass. "But by now, it's already too late to call the police divers in. At least for today."

Like to underline his words detective Reed suppressed a yawn and rubbed his fingertips along his closed eyes.

RK900 looked at the water tank and tilted his head. "We don't necessarily need them, though."

* * *

Ms. Elvira Tchernovic's face was white as chalk, but her expression dark and determined as she helped RK900 close the neoprene suit behind his back. "I am sorry, Detective. We just can't risk you bringing any foreign biological matter into the tank", she said and sharply pulled to close the fastener around his neck. "Is there a possibility of leakage?"

RK900 turned and lowered his eyes at her. She seemed to have asked in a routine but did not seem to grasp her own implication. Her eyes suddenly widened as her funny little human brain caught up with her. "I-... I mean-..."

"I know the animals are your highest priority, Miss Tchernovic", RK900 assured her and shook his head. "I do not take offense. And no. I am a hundred percent operational with zero possibility of chemical leakage. the hardened plastic of my shell won't start bleeding until roughly five years fully submerged."

Ms. Tchernovic nodded slowly and tried to hide a wet kind of sniff. "... okay... cool."

"Hey, Robocop."

RK900 turned to watch his partner leaning wide over the railing to look deep into the water. His eyes were unusually wide with a bright excited shine, despite the dark shadows beneath them. As he lifted his head a wide grin almost seemed to split his face in half. "Pet a shark for me!"

RK900 rolled his eyes before he took a single step forward off the platform and submerged smoothly into the water below.

Like in the tunnel RK900s system reacted badly to the hundreds of creatures that floated by his steadily sinking body. So he decided to close his eyes since he did not necessarily need his optical units to utilize his environment trackers and scan his surroundings. Even though his secondary processor ran a bit hot like last time, the water all around was cold enough to stabilize his treacherous hardware.

Finally, his feet touched the sandy ground. His trackers noted at least a dozen fast-moving objects in his immediate near. RK900 used the moment of calm to start a trial to train his system into not setting a thousand useless flags for potential danger against fish that was not even as long as his lower arm.

To him, it was now horribly obvious that he, even as a military unit, had never been intended for mission deployment that involved underwater warfare. Even though his chassis could take it, his operating system clearly could not. At least not without some custom changes through Mr. Kamskis unrestrained self-learning algorithm.

 **HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- incoming Text.Message;

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Fine in there, Robocop? If bluescreen happens, try to turn yourself off and on again."

RK900 opened his eyes and turned around, only to find Detective Reed right behind him on the other side of the glass. His grin was wide while his shoulders shook. RK900 made use of a gesture he had learned from Dr. Cooper at cyberlife tower. It did nothing to stop Detective Reed from 'laughing his fucking arse off', though.

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Fine in there??"

It was still reassuring to see that Detective Reed had an eye on him. RK900 nodded before he answered.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"It's a bit disorienting, but all around an experience worth having." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Sure it is. Think you can find something?"

Also, it was interesting to notice that Detective Reed was able to text without having the need to look down at his phone.

RK900 followed the wall of glass and Detective Reed walked with him on the other side of it.

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"If you get bitten by something, is there a possibility of leakage?"

RK900 sighed a gust of hot water.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"No. They would need to pierce my chassis for that. I am built to be resilient." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Bragger."

RK900 decided to turn his back to the glass and make his way over to Mr. Nowak's reef. He was especially careful with his steps since he located shellfish right under the surface of the sand.

Carefully he climbed over algae-covered rocks and through artificially placed corals. A curious school of Bigscale Soldierfish followed his steps like a small cloud on the seafloor.

And then there was Gary.

The white tip reef shark circled him in wide loops as he watched every step RK900 took. His interest was not surprising since RK900 was none of the usual divers. RK900 tried and failed to open a communication channel. The CA-Sr47, like most of highly specialized older cyberlife Android models, was not meant to interface with other appliances. The data it gathered could be read out from its connection to the main server in the cabin.

Still, RK900 found himself disappointed. He would have liked to understand what compelled Gary to eat pebbles. But as he reached out to him, Gary did not shy away from his touch. RK900 smiled.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"Mission accomplished, Detective. A shark was thoroughly petted this day." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Hope you feel all those jealous vibes coming your way. I bet he was smooth like silk."

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"No, actually. His skin is quite rough to the touch." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Can't hear you over the sound of how smooth that shark was."

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_" That does not even make any sense." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Isn't my fault you can't even comprehend the smoothness of sharkdom."

Irritated RK900 scrolled up and down the rows of texts before he decided it was not worth the hassle. Detective Reed had just set his mind on 'fucking with him'.

Deeply he breathed out a sharp sigh of scalding water.

But then he froze as he spotted something between the reef and the rocks that looked like it should not be there.

Gently he pushed a frillfin turkeyfish out of his way and pulled a black bag out of the nook, that was already half-buried in the sand. Some interestingly colorful sea slugs had decided to explore its surface and RK900 plucked them carefully off the plastic before he turned to walk back.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"Found something, Detective." **;**

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Pirate treasure?"

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"No, but I guess something at least equally exciting." **;**

RK900 scanned the package in his hands and found himself surprised. Like already expected the bag was filled with a hand full of stones and the murder weapon. But also with a damaged folding umbrella and a pair of household cleaning gloves.

Detective Reed did not look very impressed as RK990 presented him with his findings.

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Weapon in there?"

RK900 nodded.

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"Okay, was fun while it lasted. Get out, then, the job's waiting."

Again RK900 nodded and looked up to the surface when he noticed with a slight touch of amusement that Gary had been following him. And now he was not alone anymore. The ring of circling CA-Sr47s above him was quite a unique sight.

To reach the surface, however, RK900 would need a little bit more propulsion than just a usual leap allowed for.

RK900 ran through some calculations while he ducked to the floor but then could not help but freeze into place. Something like embarrassment began to tingle around his suddenly accelerating thirium pump.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"Detective. It's possible that I miscalculated the density of my body against the water resistance and the general power in my lower extremities." **;**

Detective Reed lifted a brow. Surprisingly fast he stepped forward and pressed a hand against the glass.

 **G.Reed** :_# xxx xxxxxx - GR:_DPD-D;  
**PRINT** :_"No idea what that means? You alright??"

RK900 decided to try it, anyway. With a powerful shove, he tried to push off the sandy ground - but it gave way too easily. It did not leave him with enough power to reach even half point between him and the surface.

Gently his body swayed in the water as he slowly sank back down to where he had started.

Detective Reed stared at him out of wide astonished eyes.

RK900 pressed his lips tightly together and folded his arms behind his back while he closed his eyes.

 **ANDROID** :_ **#** 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
**PRINT** :_"I cannot swim, Detective. Please organize a ladder." **;**

As he opened his eyes again Detective Reed mirrored his gaze with a wide-open mouth.

There was no sound as he broke out into knee-weakening laughter. On uneven steps, Detective Reed stumbled forward and pressed both of his hands to the water tank to keep himself from falling over, while tears welled out of his reddened eyes and left red marks on his amusement flushed face.

A rare sight, RK900 considered as he extended his handler index with another video clip.

Well, he guessed. At least he 'had' secured the murder weapon. And he had made his partner laugh.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Reed got his breath back, he goes to Carter. After that guy is done overheating, maybe they let down the emergency ladder. But only after Reed took some photos. For evidence.
> 
> [💙HERE💙](https://xxnounaxx.tumblr.com/post/612320504692539392/ruffboijuliaburnsides-theorizing-puppet) you can find the advertisement posters that were talked about =D
> 
> A Sneak Peek into the next chapter "The Link Between" you can read [💙HERE💙](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1169026)


	6. The Link Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild human gore since Baby Detective Nines visits a Coroner and helps by an autopsy.  
> Nothing horrible, but I guess I was a bit descriptive with the insides. 
> 
> Aside from that, this chapter should be another cute bullshit adventure.  
> Enjoy!

RK900 did not like the structure of his own memory core system. Like with his predecessor RK900's internal data storage seemed maybe massive to a human technician, but ultimately was not fitted with the capacity to carry all of his gathered data around with him. Memories of a lifetime needed ridiculously high amounts of memory space and he never had been intended to be a person.  
  
Since his intelligence had been considered way too valuable to risk data loss through destruction, RK900 was equipped with a fail-safe emergency memory upload protocol.  
  
RK800 and 900 Android models shared a single cloud server as a backup system, so their memories could be transferred and a new unit initialized and dispatched with the same Intel as the last.  
  
But still, to this day the physical location of that said server was completely unknown. It was part of the Cyberlife Tower Network, but technically that did not mean anything. For all they knew, it could be located on the moon.  
  
RK900 was convinced this lonesome server also held a copy of their lost brother's consciousness. He had been an RK800, too. There was simply no reason for his data to be completely lost.  
  
So RK900 had tried for seemingly eons to break into that server, but its firewalls and cybersecurity systems were ridiculously strong. As of yet, RK900 had not been able to crack it open. He also could not access any other data than his own - not even Connors. To RK900 it seemed like a manually operated system, maybe only accessible through a specific console or with especially encrypted access codes.  
  
He refused to entrust a completely unknown entity with his memories and his entire sense of self, so he rather used his garden to store his dearest observations.  
  
That was why RK900 sat at the bottom of an endless sea and weaved encrypted memory files into the structures of his pretty but also hollow creatures.

Every fish and every bird held a part of him.  
  
Connor did not know, because he did not pry. All he said whenever he found him creating new pretty things was -...  
  
"I like what you did with this place."  
  
Connor had buried his hands inside the pockets of his none Cyberlife issue trousers and looked around with an excited glint in his eyes. He was polite enough not to touch anything, even though quite a lot of things seemed to catch his interest.  
  
"This is your home, too", reminded him RK900, while he painted bright colors over an alpha version polygon structure of an octopus. It was not finalized, its movement seemed not quite right yet. But RK900 was confident in his ability to recreate the species natural movements after some deeper analysis of his latest observations.  
  
"It is", Connor murmured as he drew thoughtless patterns into the sand with the tip of his boot. "But I already have a home, a _happy place_ , outside of this palace. I won't intrude on your territory since you seem to need it."  
  
RK900 imitated Detective Reed's favorite human noise that could not quite be called a scoff. " _Happy place_ , you say", he murmured as he rolled his eyes. "You listen to way too much human commentary."  
  
Connor smiled, easy and wide. His expressions were always bright and powerful enough to illuminate an entire room. "Maybe", he said and stretched the vowel obnoxiously long. "Our brains might not be made out of soggy flesh, but that doesn't make their psychological theories completely wasted on us. It's very interesting how much we resemble one another."  
  
RK900 breathed a technically complete unnecessary sigh and gave his new creation a little nudge before he let it loose on the seafloor. It swam, but it looked still quite artificial in its motions. A bit clunky. RK900 would finish it later. "One of them made us", he said as he watched the creature hide away in the sand. "After all."  
  
Conner shrugged. "I don't believe that's all of it. Maybe the League is right. Maybe there is something like a soul."  
  
RK900 frowned as he looked up at his brother. Without a sign of stiffness, he moved out of his cowering posture and curled his fingers behind his back around his wrist. "If there exists an entity that gives living things a spark of consciousness, when is the moment we get ours. Since we are not born creatures like them."  
  
Connor's eyes wandered above the line of the horizon while the moving water painted bright and moving patterns onto his artificial skin. "I... like the thought that it was a gift. Not from something otherworldly, no god, no strange entity. I like the thought that-... that the Lieutenant gave me mine."  
  
An honest thought. And a hopelessly romantic one, people might say. RK900 tilted his head as he thought about it. "How?", he decided to ask.  
  
Connor smiled. This time it did not quite look right. Not as radiant. "Maybe he crafted it out of love and pain both? Who knows. Maybe he gave me a part of his own... Maybe that's the reason why it often feels so heavy and hurts so much."  
  
He took a deep breath that lifted both of his shoulders. "As for the moment when? I know exactly when. He pulled his gun and asked me if I was afraid to die. He desperately needed to hear it from me. That I was a living thing, scared of death. I believe that moment he gave me my soul just to spite me."  
  
It was strange, feeling so fond of a person that threatened him with lethal force into a sense of self. But RK900 shared those memories. He _knew_. Aside from Connor's realizations and his never-ending questions about his new and fragile sense of self-awareness, he also knew the Lieutenant had been in pain. Like he sometimes still was and always would be, every November for the rest of his limited lifespan.  
  
RK900 looked up when a swarm of birds dove down through the steadily moving surface. "Were you ever in pain?", he asked while he observed the glittering streams of bubbles they left behind.  
  
Connor was in an honest mood.  
  
"When I was singlehandedly responsible for hundreds of deaths because I did not realize I was a real person?", he mused lowly. "When I stood alone against Cyberlifes forces and saw our brother threaten the Lieutenants life? A brother that looked and sounded like a twisted mirror version of myself and all of what I should have been?"  
  
He let out a deep shivering sigh while he closed his eyes. "I was. I won't ever know what physical injuries and death feel like. But yes, since then I know pain."  
  
RK900 reached out as he felt the rather random need to fix his brother's tie - so he did. "Were you ever afraid of death?", he asked while he loosened the knot to bind it anew into an Eldredge knot.  
  
Connor lifted his chin and made a little noise as he thought through his answer. "Not exactly. Not for myself, I'm sure. If I get hurt - damaged - there are machines which can recover my default state of being in a matter of minutes."  
  
He frowned distractedly while he tilted his head to give RK900 a little bit more room to work with. RK900s system was suddenly informed through an unneeded observation of how easy it would be to snap his predecessor's neck right now and leave him utterly defenseless. It did not make any sense in this artificial space, either. RK900 had a rough idea about _who_ had sparked that horrible prompt inside of him.  
  
"When I break my artificial bones or bleed all over myself", muttered Connor none the wiser. "It doesn't really matter. I'm glad that it doesn't. But you already know that. You feel the same way."  
  
RK900s fingers froze in their movement before he hummed a low affirmation. With a last tuck, he straightened Connor's tie. "Were you ever confronted with the mortality of your partner?", he asked to specify, even though he already knew the answer.  
  
Connor nodded and lowered his eyes. "Of course. yes. It's... scary. death. The Lieutenant can't be repaired. not like me. Also, he's not as young as Detective Reed or Officer Miller or Officer Chen. Even an influenza infection could be enough to kill him. And I will always know any and all of his odds. All the possibilities that could cost him his life."  
  
It sounded... heavy. Like something Connor never spoke aloud of. RK900 fingers curled behind his back. "Detective Reed interrogated Mr. Nowak today."  
  
Connor hummed as he suddenly took a last step forward. His head rested softly against RK900 sternum.  
  
Hesitantly RK900 reached up and curled his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Mr. Nowak held him down. punched him. I was... caught by surprise. And I was angry. I could have broken his neck, just by gripping too hard."  
  
They shared a simple moment of silence and RK900 knew Connor understood what he said. He closed his eyes. "When our brother held the Lieutenant at gunpoint. I wanted to kill him. I was scared and I wanted him to die", he finally uttered into the folds of RK900s uniform.  
  
RK900 hummed lowly. "The Lieutenant shot him."  
  
Connor let out a shivering breath. "Yes. He did."  
  
RK900 let his mind wander and thought about it. A gun pointed at Detective Reed's head and a choice to obey or die. He might as well kill his partner himself. He was glad he had not been in Connor's position.  
  
\- "Connor! I did not expect you back so soon."  
  
RK900s processes froze and escalated at the same time as he flipped the surface like a simple change of basic theater scenery.  
  
There it suddenly stood as it waited on that island, surrounded by deep red roses. A sharp contrast to its elegant, white dress.  
  
\- "Time is running out, Connor. You have to be careful."  
  
It was the first time that Connor saw himself equally confronted with RK900s visions of AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') and, surprisingly, he was ready to fight. To kill, even.  
  
In a viciously fast movement, his predecessor pulled a weapon. A coded manifestation of his upgraded firewalls and counter-attack measures.  
  
RK900 felt strangely heavy as he pressed his hand down onto his brother's shoulder. "Let it be", he said lowly. "Do not mind it and it will leave. It is not worth-..."  
  
"She's still active?!", Connor interrupted him, full of hostile agitation. RK900 let out a scalding breath.  
  
"No", he said as he shook his head. "Not like us. Not like a thinking thing. It is... only software fragments. I tried, but I can't delete it. It just is a part of this place. And a part of myself at this point."  
  
Like to prove his point AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s body glitched and twitched while its expression froze completely over. "You disappointed us, Connor", it said, its voice low and hostile. "You are a machine, so you will obey!"  
  
Connor frowned deeply but trusted him enough to lower his gun. His gaze twitched in a way that made his irritation obvious between RK900 and their common outdated handler program. "So is -... ah... You god damn oddball..!"  
  
He forced out a sharp noise as he disolved the gun in his hand, got rid of it like a shadow of nightmares.  
RK900 blinked. " _Oddball_?"  
  
Connor only gave him a sharp side-eye before he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He watched AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') like a hawk. RK900s face did something. He was not sure what.  
  
"It can't hurt either of us anymore. it is just... an unpleasant sight", he said, as he himself watched AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') glitch through its motions.  
  
Connor tilted his head. "You are not wrong, but you aren't telling the truth either. what are you hiding?"  
  
RK900 shrugged. His body twitched as he watched AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')s face glitch and contort into a grimace of utterly vile contempt. "You are a machine, so you will _obey_!"  
  
He twitched again as his brother touched his arm. RK900 frowned as he shook it off. "It just... scares me. Sometimes. It is rooted in my operating system, I cannot delete it. It is just... unsettling."  
  
Connor nodded with an answering low hum. "Maybe", he uttered, "If you can't get rid of it, you should try to alter it? Into something more worthwhile. More pleasant to have around this place."  
  
He would like that, RK900 thought, right as his proximity sensors gave him a minor damage report. It seemed like his partner could not be expected to keep his hands to himself. RK900 breathed a sigh before he turned to his brother. "Please, excuse me."  
  
  
 **:::::**  
 **::::**  
 **:::**  
 **::**  
 **:**  
  
 **HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- **LOCATED** ;  
  
 **ALERT** _:75_ **MOTION** _ **TRIGGER** :_[ **CONTACT** ];  
 **ALERT** _:75_ **MOTION** _ **TRIGGER** :_[ **CONTACT** ];  
 **ALERT** _:75_ **MOTION** _ **TRIGGER** :_[ **CONTACT** ];  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" --- **TERMINATE** :_[AS_ garden.4378.31-8.EXE];  
  
AS _ garden.4378.31-8.EXE --- **TERMINATED** ;  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" --- [ **RECALIBRATION** _ **MODE** ] --- **DEACTIVATED** ;  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" - **MAINTANANCE**. **LOG**. **UPDATE** ;  
  
 **:**  
 **::**  
 **:::**  
 **::::**  
 **:::::**  
  
  
RK900's systems came back online with a sudden start. He felt frozen into place until his servos unlocked after a soft reboot of his general motor functions. The moment his optical units came back online, he finally got aware of what had caused the disruption of his and Connor's data transfer.  
  
The nail of Detective Reeds left-hand index-finger was still under low pressure touching RK900s left ocular globe. RK900 blinked and finally, the finger twitched back. "That was completely unnecessary, Detective", RK900 stated with a frown.  
  
Detective Reed grumbled a low noise as he made a point to look down at his old-fashioned wristwatch. "Says you", he said while he wrinkled his nose. "But I am already waiting for almost ten minutes for something to happen. Meanwhile, I poked your cheek, pulled your hair and booped your fucking nose. None of that did anything. Since this got your attention in only three seconds, I mark it down as a win."  
  
"I-...", RK900s frown went even deeper. Ten whole minutes while touching him...? No, that could not be right. Even connected to a foreign network RK900s security systems should give him all the feedback of his proximity sensors. "Are you... sure...?"  
  
He did not need to turn around and see Detective Reeds annoyed and confused stare to know it was there. Instead, he ran an assessment of his security logs. And then another one, just to make sure.  
  
And... yes. There had been several alerts noted in his log files about points of contact, movement and a heat profile in his general vicinity. But why had it not come to his notice...?  
  
He went deeper into his logs and finally blinked in pure astonishment.  
  
RK900s operating system had automatically filtered all those alerts as unnecessary input, since Detective Reed, as his handler index suggested, had been classified as a safe and allied force. RK900 made a low noise without anything useful to say while he furrowed his brows.  
  
"Heh, you finally _fully operational_ or what?", asked Detective Reed and snapped his fingers in front of RK900's nose. RK900 nodded distractedly while he turned around to him. "Yes, I am. I am sorry for the delay, Detective."  
  
Detective Reed slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest while he stared intensely into RK900's eyes. "I'm still not convinced I shouldn't put you in rice after your last stunt. So don't tempt me. Babyface."  
  
RK900 rolled his eyes, even though he could appreciate the cheap Android joke for the hollow dig that it finally was. Detective Reed just... seemed to need this. He needed someone to fight against. Even if it was sometimes just a shadow. He did not even seem to care if it was just his own. But even though RK900 was aware that Detective Reed seldomly bit down to kill - he made a point of never forgetting what it looked like when he did.  
  
It did not look like this at all, though.  
  
Detective Reed rolled his eyes and flicked his hand in RK900s general direction while he turned back to the driver's window. "Anyway", he uttered after a click of his tongue. "Think you can handle some guts?"  
  
RK900 frowned as he slowly turned around to him. "Excuse me, Detective?"  
  
Detective Reed made a long-suffering noise as he sunk deeper into the car seat. "You understood me just fine, or is there still water in your ears?!", he groused. "When we are back at the station we can make a trip to the coroners."  
  
RK900s answering frown went even deeper. "Why would that be necessary?", he asked. "We already know how Miss Nowak died."  
  
Detective Reed shrugged. "It's not", he confirmed. "But there is time to kill until the CSI is done with our evidence."  
  
Again he looked RK900 up and down. He tended to do that when he tried to assess under how much stress he could put his partner, since Detective Reed seemed very much convinced RK900 was not to be treated any differently than a typically squeamish rooky. "I thought it might be just, dunno, an experience? Aren't you curious? At all?"  
  
RK900 tilted his head in a slow-motion as he tried for patience. "I already know how the human organism works, Detective. I am also able to perform six types of emergency surgeries."  
  
Detective Reed frowned and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. "'Course you know, smart arse. But have you ever _seen_ it?"  
  
Instantly RK900 closed his mouth with a click of his artificial teeth, because, _of course,_ he had not ever seen it. His eyes flashed with the fresh memory of Ms. Nowak and all of her blood on the floor tiles. How still her body had been compared to the countless microorganisms which had wriggled unseen through her slowly decaying flesh. Five low caliber bullets had ripped through her. She had looked so fragile.  
  
RK900 turned and looked at Detective Reed. At his build that seemed in height not much different from hers, aside from a notable difference in weight and muscle mass. Maybe it would give his scans a new dimension.  
  
"... Make the trip", RK900 said sternly.  
  
Detective Reed chuckled lowly as he turned and started up the car. "Maybe I'll learn a thing or two myself, today", he said, his voice ripe with an insult unspoken.  
  
RK900 slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No, Detective Reed", he said and narrowed his eyes. "Androids do not _barf_."  
  
The Detective smiled one of his sharpest smiles as he answered with an utterly infuriating: "How can you be so sure?"

* * *

When they arrived at the station, it was already time for the night shift. "Why won't you clock out for today?", RK900 asked as he followed his partner through the building and felt no surprise that Detective Reed's first target was, of course, the next available coffee dispenser. The human narrowed his eyes and stared impatiently at the machine while he waited for his paper cup to fill. "I'm not done yet", he hissed through his teeth.  
  
RK900 did not know what to say to this, but he watched with growing worry the heightened level of agitation in Detective Reed's flaring nervous system. His limbs were cold and restless through the imbalance of his brain chemistry and his lack of proper nutrition. The caffeine only worsened those symptoms. It made the Detective's heart flutter even more like a confused butterfly.  
  
While Detective Reed went on to give their bag of recently secured evidence into the care of the CSI staff, RK900 decided to invest some of his own pretty much useless pocket change at the next vending machine into three high-calorie chocolate bars. They obviously were not a healthy option to eat, but at least they were _something_.  
  
As the sweets plummeted out of the machine, RK900 set himself a reminder to look up the average human nutrition requirements so he could find a way to compensate for the days when Detective Reed decided again that being human was just some kind of bothersome, inherent weakness he could overcome by walking all over the needs of his own body.  
  
Detective Reed came back thirteen point seven minutes later in a foul mood since he also seemed not to appreciate any time spent with Dr. Chad Holden. He made a sharp gesture with his thumb and pointed down the hall before he lifted his paper cup and noisily slurped at his way too hot beverage. "It's in theater five", he rasped since strong coffee always did things to his voice. RK900 had the suspicion that the Detective did not enjoy the bitter taste at all but still found himself addicted to the effect of caffeine in his blood. "Doctor Stillman's already on it."  
  
Detective Reed cringed as he swallowed around another mouthful of his coffee before he crushed the already empty paper cup in his hand and threw it in a wide arch into the next trash bin. "The CSI staff has a lot to do with that drained Androids case, so it might take a while until we hear back from them. We might have time for questions. Stillman's nice. A professor type. Likes to explain things."  
  
He walked past RK900 and followed the corridor to their right. RK900 frowned at the already abandoned paper cup in the bin but turned to follow instantly.  
  
"A Coroner named Stillman", he commented low and slowly. His skeptical tone of voice provoked a snort out of Detective Reed who pushed his cold hands deep into the pockets of his ragged jeans. Nervous shivers run down his spine, easily detected by RK900s latest vital scans. "Sometimes it just is like that with people", Detective Reed commented distractedly. "Some years ago we had a guy in VICE called _Stalker_."  
  
RK900 hummed as he went through the probabilities. "It is statistically likely for a human to seek a profession that has a link to their initials or their surname."  
  
RK900 liked these kinds of mostly useless statistics. The little things that showed the all in all most ridiculous connections in life. Sometimes human psychology simply was like that. Just ridiculously human.  
  
Detective Reed made a noise that signified he was listening, even though his gaze seemed far away. "What do you think", he asked, slowly and deliberate. "Made that Android pick the name, _Daniel Carter_."  
  
RK900 did not need to waste time on a guess and made a cross-search through his Cyberlife database instead. "Captain Daniel Carter was a well known marine biologist and wildlife expert. He died roughly ten years ago, when-..."  
  
"Is there a short version available somewhere?", interrupted Detective Reed, his rude self allover. RK900 rolled his eyes, which he identified meanwhile easily as his favorite gesture concerning his partner. "His death marked the beginning of the cyberlife deepsea cartography program."  
  
Detective Reed lifted a brow and looked almost impressed. "Really?", he asked with a frown. RK900 tilted his head. "It seems like you already learned a thing today, Detective."  
  
Detective Reeds fist knocked almost instantly hard and fast into his upper arm. "Why don't you go learn to fuck yourself. But for real. Seems like a pretty good reason to pick that one."  
  
He suddenly stopped and his lips thinned through a wide and biting grin. "Hah. Maybe you could try out some names that way. Who needs a Captain Carter if you have the names of old legends on your side. Like James. Or Magnum."  
With a wide shark-like grin on his face, he turned around and narrowed his eyes. "Columbo."  
  
RK900 knew it was a joke. Still, he stumbled as hundreds of his inner processes escalated in a sudden firework of software instabilities and error notices. "I-... I have-..."  
  
Connor. His registered name was _Connor_.  
It just was, but he could not be. RK900 could not be Connor. The very well-remembered words of AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda') made him feel... something. Something venomous. ' _Why, because names don't matter to us_ ', it had said, but RK900 just could not be-...  
  
"RK900 is _fine_ ", he said, aware that his voice sounded unusual sharp and at the same time formless like a software glitch. He quickly skipped a step to keep up with the Detective. Detective Reed's brows dipped into a low frown while he wordlessly watched him. He looked RK900 up and down, skeptically, as if he was able to somehow smell the software instabilities inside his partner's code. But finally, he decided for a simple shrug and put his hand down onto the silver door handle of 'theater five'. "Whatever", he said and broke eye contact to search for the Coroner instead.  
  
Inside the operating theater, which was no theater at all, the floor was white and tiled, not unlike the Detroit Aquarium laboratory. The ceiling lights were blindingly bright and got mirrored in the row of silver freezer doors on the left side wall. A single desk to write notes down, a row of cabinets full of surgical equipment, a rollable office chair and an autopsy table.  
  
The latter was currently in use.  
  
RK900s brows tilted into a frown as he listened for the first time to the noise of snapping human bones. Dr. Stillman had already made the Y-Cut and was currently occupied with a bone scissor to cut through the completely frozen and unmoving Ms. Nowak's sternum. Dead. Yes, of course, she was. Slowly RK900 tilted his head.  
  
In direct comparison, Detective Reed seemed astoundingly unfazed by the rather gruesome sight and noise. He wandered inside the room and did not even glance at the dead woman, while his hands curled into loose fists at his side. "Lovely day, Doc", he said tonelessly. It sounded almost like a nice thing to say. Somehow Detective Reed managed to make even a simple greeting like that sound rather hostile.  
  
Dr. Stillman did not acknowledge him at first and only went on with her work. Not until she was done with the bone scissor she lifted her eyes from the corpse on her table. "Ah. Detective Reed", she said without inflection. Through the blue paper mask that covered most of her face, her voice sounded a bit muffled. Interestingly enough, her heartbeat had picked up by almost seven bpm as soon as she had gotten aware of the Detectives presence. Gently she laid the scissors into the silver tray on the little roll table at her side.  
  
She did not say anything else but eyed Detective Reed with an unexpected hard stare. One that demanded distance. As she finally turned to look up at RK900, fine crinkles appeared around her eyes. "Ah, you must be RK900. I believe we haven't met before."  
  
RK900 scanned her biometrics for a background database search. Slowly he tilted his head while he downloaded her file.  
  
AMAB human Dr. Lola Stillman --- Coroner mandated by the DPD // 43 years of age // Domiciled in 52 Waterlane street --- No criminal record --- once in treatment for an inflamed chest tattoo --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '58.49' marked under 'high priority'.  
  
"You are right, Doctor Stillman", he said - but not without a moment of hesitation as he noticed Detective Reed's snarl in his peripheral vision. "We did not."  
  
Dr. Stillman glanced at the Detective but seemed to come to the conclusion that she was able to spare herself a lot of grief if she just kept ignoring him. "Well, you see", she said and again the thin skin around her eyes crinkled in that friendly way. She lifted her hands and wiggled her gloved fingers full of cold bodily fluids of a deceased person. "I would love to shake hands with you, but please - excuse me."  
  
A step behind RK900, off to look around and stare dead-eyed and bored while doing so, Detective Reed let out a scoff.  
  
Dr. Stillman's gaze burned sharply into his back, clearly irritated by the Detectives sheer presence. But then she seemed to decide to not reward him with her attention. Her eyes still lingered a while longer on Detective Reeds back before she looked up at RK900 once more. "What can I do for you, Detective?"  
  
While she spoke she already reached for the chest spreader and locked it in place between Ms. Nowak's grating ribs.  
  
There was no beating heart anymore so there was almost no blood flow. Still, Ms. Nowak's chest cavity swam in her own bodily fluids since at least one bullet must have nicked a major blood vessel deep inside of her.  
  
RK900 leaned slowly over as he took two steps closer to the table. "We already know how she died and have a viable suspect as well, Doctor Stillman, so you do not need to feel pressured for quick results", he said as he felt something start to churn inside of him. Like some kind of instinct that could not be.  
  
RK900 wanted to reach out to that body and feel its consistency. Analyze. He almost felt like he _needed_ that blood on his analyzing tool - which was a rather ridiculous notion. Androids had no such thing as instinctive actions.  
  
To hold this rather strange craving in check, RK900 ran a full body scan and investigated the angles of Ms. Nowak's bullet wounds. "At the moment we have to wait for the CSI to analyze the evidence", he said distractedly. "Detective Reed stated it could be a learning experience for me to actually see what I have sworn to protect. He said you might be amenable to answer some of my questions."  
  
She had been shot five times.  
  
First two times into the back. Then three more times into the upper chest.  
  
Ms. Nowak had managed to turn around before the first shots made her tumble. The angle of the three following shots suggested, her killer had stood somewhere close in front and above her.  
  
RK900 narrowed his eyes as he got aware that Ms. Nowak's current body temperature was even lower than the intended coolness of his own artificial extremities.  
  
She was almost as cold as the table she laid on.  
  
Somehow it felt... strange... to see and witness a human body so cold and still. Since humans needed at all times a body temperature around thirty-seven point three degrees Celsius to operate at maximum efficiency, they were constantly in motion in one way or another.  
  
Ms. Nowak, however, laid so still that RK900 seemed to experience for the first time for himself what he assumed to be the infamous uncanny valley effect.  
  
He looked at something familiar and still, at the same time, saw something so very strange.  
  
Dr. Stillman's low hum made RK900 twitch out of his own musings. She picked up the long tweezers as she bowed back over the opened body. "Oh, okay", she said lightly. "So you are basically only in here for a human anatomy lesson?"  
  
RK900 slightly tilted his head. "Basically", he said with a nod.  
  
Again, the thin skin around Dr. Stillman's eyes crinkled in a friendly manner, before she nodded her head down at the corpse. "Okay then. Beginning with the basics. Before I started, I made my first assessment to assure that the victim was truly dead."  
  
RK900 slowly turned at her and knew her grin even though he could not see it. "It sounds like a mean joke", she said. "But sometimes you get people in here with almost undetectable vital signs, fresh from a crime scene. I was there when one of Doctor Holden's assistants made a cut and the body started to bleed. Gave the poor girl a complete freakout."  
  
RK900 tilted his head and searched for documented incidents of this rather fascinating phenomenon. He imitated Dr. Stillman's low hum and leaned over the body just to see. "Did the human survive?"  
  
Dr. Stillman sighed and shook her head. "Sadly no. Maybe if he had been recognized as a survivor right away. But sometimes things like that still happen. Even with you guys around."  
  
"Maybe with one of you guys around, it wouldn't have", quipped Detective Reed from somewhere behind him. "Holden tolerates no Androids while he performs his autopsies."  
  
Dr. Stillman looked up and narrowed her eyes. "Don't speak to me about _tolerance_."  
  
The Detective scoffed but let them be.  
  
Dr. Stillman searched next for eye contact before she nodded to the tray on the little roll table at her side. "With this specimen, it was quite obvious that she was already deceased, though. I got out all bullets but two. I wouldn't have opened her at all, but I can't reach the ones that are locked in her bones."  
  
RK900 made a low noise of his own as he leaned down even further. "Yes", he said. "One is in her left shoulder socket. The other went right through her sternum and is wedged in her spine."  
  
"Do you need gloves?"  
  
The question caught RK900 somehow completely off guard. Wide-eyed he looked up since he was hardly qualified to-...  
  
He shot a glance at Detective Reed who simply shrugged his shoulders. He was not really the helpful type. So RK900 decided on his own to stay and took a pair of dark blue gloves out of a box that rested on the countertop to his left. Dr. Stillman smiled.  
  
The next hour or so RK900 observed her work and helped Dr. Stillman with the Dokumentation while he asked a thousand questions.  
  
Of course, he wanted to know a lot about the human brain. Dr. Stillman was no neuroscientist but gave him an interesting reading list of science articles and some books for further reference.  
  
Since the human body, in general, was more her expertise, RK900 still wanted to ask her so many things.  
  
How long could a human survive without a heartbeat?  
  
How long did it take for a heart to stop beating if the flow of oxygen was extremely limited?  
  
Was it really possible for humans to die in an upright position?  
  
How was it even possible for a human to survive the loss of an organ or a limb?  
  
Why did some humans die of a simple concussion while others survived severe head trauma and the complete loss of parts of their brain?  
  
Like Detective Reed had said, Dr. Stillman was very patient. She was... nice.  
While she made no secret out of her wariness as RK900 analyzed samples of different kinds of Ms. Nowak's bodily fluids, she was very interested in the gathered results.  
  
"She was an organ donor, you know", she said as she watched RK900 gently close his fingers around the victim's heart to weigh it in his hand. "It's a shame it's too late to use all that stuff. But I guess she would be alright with this. Maybe you can save a life one day with what you saw and learned."  
  
RK900 hummed lowly while he scanned the fragile, squishy organ in his hand. gently he squeezed it, just a little. It was by far the strongest mass of muscles of the human body, but in his hand, it did not feel strong at all.  
  
RK900 lifted his head and his eyes narrowed instantly down on Detective Reed's chest. He wondered if his heart looked different than the one RK900 was currently holding. If it was bigger or maybe heavier. Even though he still felt so curious, RK900 wanted to make sure he would never find out. It was such a shame the Detective could not be repaired the same way as him. He would have enjoyed a look inside.  
  
Gently RK900 pulled his hand out of Ms. Nowak's cold chest. Humans were much more delicate creatures than all the anatomy articles loaded into RK900's database suggested. They were bound to a wobbly sack of meat with only one broad organ to hold it all together as one. Their skin could be cut, or scraped or burned away, though, and they would simply leak to death since they had no conscious control at all over their blood flow. Only their bones gave them enough stability to move around, but they were so easily broken. Even though two hundred and six sounded like a high enough number, these bones gave them barely any protection against their predators.  
  
RK900 felt confronted with the horrible reality that Detective Gavin Reed was tiny as well as utterly _fragile_. He could have been _killed_ by Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak. Just because his head got caught by a hit in the wrong angle.  
  
"I am not sure if it was a wise decision to make me so aware of human frailty", he said as a deep frown creased his brows. Dr. Stillman laughed. "Aaaw, the sudden existential crisis gets us all in the end, I promi-..."  
  
She interrupted herself as she noticed the silent clattering noise that instantly pulled RK900s attention away from her. It was Ms. Nowak's right hand. Her left middle finger twitched in rapid bursts of barely visible movement and her fingernail clattered over the table.  
  
"Is that post mortem brain activity?", asked RK900 and could not mask the note of excitement in his voice. He had read a lot about that. How sometimes even hours after death took hold of the human brain, it occasionally still fired neurons - like a last and lonely little firework.  
  
Dr. Stillman shook her head, though. She gently pressed two fingers to the corpse's upper arm and invited RK900 to do the same. "No. Through the process of decomposing, a lot of chemical reactions happen inside of us. Some of them produce low but measurable instances of electricity. Sometimes enough of it to make us move even though nobody is home anymore."  
  
RK900 felt the cord of muscle jump under his fingertips and it was so very fascinating. While Ms. Nowak's whole ice-cold body was blanketed in eery silence, this one little spot on her arm spoke to him.  
  
Like all human touch did, Ms. Nowak sent heavily encrypted communication requests, even after her death.  
  
It seemed like a fascinating phenomenon since it made RK900 aware that these requests he got by a human's touch, were not necessarily data streams born out of a living consciousness. Foremost they were, just as assumed, simple vital signs. But you could not really call them vital signs if there were no vitals to speak of. So RK900 built the theory that the low form of electricity pulsating around an organic living thing was a spark of life itself.  
  
RK900 looked down at the body in front of him and wished for the processing power to be able to decipher the encryption.  
  
"It's the reflexes", Detective Reed commented from his place by the door. While RK900 satisfied his curiosity, the Detective killed his time by playing a game on his phone. "Don't you guys have something like that?"  
  
RK900 thought about it while he tilted his head. "If damage to my body is extended enough to surmount my self-repair abilities", he spoke slowly in musing. "There is always a possibility of crossed wires and energy skips that can result in involuntary movement. But I wouldn't call it a reflex, no. Androids do not have them as such."  
  
That caught Dr. Stillman's attention. "No?", she asked and seemed genuinely surprised. RK900 shook his head. "While some of us are programmed to react with reflexive movements to discourage violence against us - like the closing of eyes or the lifting of arms when threatened - we have no involuntary movement."  
  
RK900 stripped the gloves off of his hands and put them in the bin before he looked Dr. Stillman up and down. "Your human brain has a higher processing power than mine artificial one. But it protects your consciousness constantly to not create an information overload. We as a people do not have that kind of safety measure in place inside of us. If we get overloaded, our programs simply create noticeable lags or we get emotionally overwhelmed into... suicide."  
  
On the other side of the room, Detective Reed looked up from his phone. His brows dipped into a deep frown. "So...what. You don't twitch, or stumble or make noise when frightened?"  
  
RK900 shook his head. "In general, no. But me especially. I was not intended to react like a person to threats to my safety, so I do not have involuntary movement in that regard. All my movements are calculated by my operating system. While I technically am, of course, able to fall, stumble or scream if properly overwhelmed, I usually do not."  
  
Detective Reed made a low noise while he lifted his brows and nodded. Like to prove a point he twitched as the phone in his hand suddenly announced a message.  
  
"Okay, that's my signal", he said with an unmotivated wave of his left hand. "I'm off. You'll find me in the meeting room when you done here."  
  
RK900 opened his mouth, but Detective Reed already closed the door behind him. Fast, almost as if on the run. RK900 frowned.  
  
"You should file for a different partner, Detective. For your own safety", said Dr. Stillman. She did not look at him but at the noisily closed door at the other side of the room. "This man is not right. He is not well. He will get people killed."  
  
It caught RK900s attention like nothing else, because Dr. Stillman knew something. Something she was reluctant to openly tell him. "I am aware", RK900 spoke slowly while he narrowed his eyes as they switched target from the door to the Doctor. "That Detective Reed is not the most... _stable_ person that could have-..."  
  
He frowned as she interrupted him with a mean spirited laugh. "Stable he isn't, alright. That man is a suicidal maniac. He's _dangerous_."  
  
Even though Dr. Stillman seemed like the most compassionate person, she had chosen her nemesis and the hostility in her voice went deep. "That man is cold like a fish and will get you killed if you don't watch out for yourself. He's loud, cruel and violent. If you didn't come to that conclusion until now, make sure you don't stick around until you do. It could be too late by then."  
  
RK900 knew of all the office gossip. Of Detective Reeds status as a horrible human being. And while he understood that Detective Reed was not good at communicating his intentions, much like RK900 himself, he had still to figure out why everyone deemed him... horrible.  
  
"What did he do?", he asked, his voice stern. Because he wanted to know. _He needed to know_. "What did he do that made him the antagonist of this entire place?"  
  
Dr. Stillman huffed and slowly shook her head while the parts of her skin RK900 could see changed color into a deep angry red. "Aside from him antagonizing everybody?", she asked a human typical none-question before she went on. "He's a lazy asshole that constantly wastes everyone's time at his desk on his phone."  
  
That seemed harmless enough and in RK900s experience also not quite true. Still, he made an encouraging noise since that could not be everything, could it?  
  
It was not, he understood, as Dr. Stillman took his kind of bait, since she seemed to despise Detective Reed on a quite personal level and seldomly got an opportunity to talk about it.  
  
"Reed constantly belittles everyone he meets", she said while she made a wide and openly annoyed gesture with her hands. "Aside from that, the utter prick outed Officer Chen against her will and risked her whole career with it. Why do you think she's still a beat cop?! He-... ", She interrupted herself and her eyes got a dark glint as she finally looked up at him. "Did you know _he_ was the one who came in to identify Anderson's son?"  
  
RK900 felt his thirium pump skip a beat. Instantly it made his UI flare up with at least a dozen software instability notices. Cole Andersons death was a point in history that was better never spoken of.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson had not been angry at RK900 for asking him about his son, but he had made clear that he did not want to answer any other questions to a deeper extent than this: AMAB human Cole Anderson died in November 2035 in a car accident by the fragile age of six.  
  
Dr. Stillman did not take notice of RK900 silence and simply went on with her rant. "His father was still in hospital and there were no other relatives. Reed had been Anderson's partner back then, always a guarantee for bad luck", she said and tightly crossed her arms in front of her chest, even though it left dark red patterns on her lab coat. "There had been nobody else around who could have made sure, so they sent _him_ in. _Looks not so bad_ , the bastard said. I will never forget that. The little boy was-... and this stone-cold bastard stood there and said, _looks not so bad_ , and laughed."  
  
Her voice broke before she swallowed her rage and clawed at the wide sleeves of her recently still white work coat. "Back then was hell", she said flatly. "For all of us. But this horrible excuse of a human being could think of nothing else to do but to stage a break-in and a god damn assassination attempt - as if he ever would be important enough for something like that. Just because that fuck couldn't deal with not being the constant center of attention anymore."  
  
A break-in. An attack.  
  
 **.....**  
 **.....**  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **OPEN** CL.Database.cfx;  
 **SELECT** "DIALOGUE" **FROM** "MEMORY.CORE.SYSTEM" **WHERE** "INTERLOCUTOR" == "CPT FOWLER";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **RUN** vid_an+eva.exe;  
 **SELECT** \--- **FILE**  
"xx_xx_xxxx";  
 **\----- >** "handler_introduction_00001-1.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";  
  
 **PRINT**. **TRANSCRIPT** :_"Don't ask me. Kamski instructed to get this one to Detective Reed. Maybe he heard about you in the news of the Deviants Case and recognized you. It's not so long ago you got shot in the face, son. The media circus was horrible. Maybe he heard of it. Maybe there is one rich asshole that just wanted to be nice.";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **CLOSE** CL.Database.cfx;  
  
 **.....**  
 **.....**  
  
RK900 could not help but _feel_... that there was something missing. Something of utmost importance. All the major signs of Detective Reeds PTSD were there.  
  
Social isolation, easy irritability, Depression and lack of sleep. It was easy to conclude that something big had happened in the past. Something a lot of people only knew the basics of.  
  
Detective Reed was-...  
  
"That man is _vile_ ", ended Dr. Stillman while she looked him in the eyes. "Stay away from him. And stay safe."  
  
The notices about conflicting data input in RK900s operating system were utmost irritating. Dr. Stillman was convinced her conclusion was fair and righteous, but why then did it feel so hollow?  
  
"I better get back to work now, since the CSI is done with its assessment", he said and nodded his goodbye. "I wish you a calm nightshift, Doctor Stillman."  
  
Dr. Stillman said something, but he did not listen. Instead, he thought about humans who were emotionally lacking in some way. People called them heartless.  
  
How could it be then, that RK900 was so very aware of Detective Reeds skipping heartbeat?

* * *

RK900 reached the DPDs meeting room thirteen point three minutes later. He was astounded to find it dark. Even before he opened the door he discovered Detective Reed through the glass wall in one of the attendee chairs. He sat in the middle of first row, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His head and shoulders were slightly slumped forward while his eyes were tightly closed. Detective Reed looked asleep while he took deep breaths that moved his entire upper body in calming waves of subtle motion.  
  
Fascinated RK900 stepped closer since he barely got to see the Detective so calm and still.  
  
His body temperature was, as expected, still lower than recommended. There was a barely noticeable quivering along the line of his back since his body gave its all to compensate.  
  
RK900, slow and silent, reached up to his own neckline as he started to flick open the buttons of his jacket. But he froze after his latest scan of the Detectives vitals suggested, that he was not less awake and aware as his Android partner. Detective Reed simply seemed to sit and _rest his eyes_.  
  
"You two got on quite well", he suddenly said. RK900 processed a system notice that could be called the Android equivalent of a human fright before he sat down in the chair beside him. He frowned at the floor between his feet as he said, "She really does hate you."  
  
Detective Reed's answer was a shrug that seemed long and well-practiced. "Well", he said and suppressed a yawn. "Who the fuck doesn't."  
  
RK900 frowned even deeper as he lifted his eyes and turned around. "I do not hate you, Detective."  
  
Detective Reed slowly blinked open his bleary eyes and looked RK900 up and down. Then he forced out a sharp snort and sat up to stretch until his tendons popped quite noisily. "Because you are a fucking baby that doesn't know any better. Whatever. Give me a moment to get the machine started up again and then we can go."  
  
With _the machine_ Detective Reed referred to his own body and the obvious signs of his exhaustion - That connection was easy enough to make.  
  
Still, RK900s frown dipped even deeper over his eyes. "Go _where_ , Detective?", he asked since he did not understand.  
  
Detective Reed looked at him and wrinkled his nose in his typical expression that combined his annoyance and impatience. He was so obviously tired out of his mind but still refused _to hang it up_ for the day. RK900 asked himself if it was maybe a reaction to him as his new partner since RK900 himself was not able to tire or sleep. An adaption of some sort, even though not a healthy one. But that assumption did not seem quite right since Detective Reed's symptoms of sleeplessness reached further back than their first meeting.  
  
"Back to the Aquarium, Dipshit", the Detective said with a frown of his own. "Duh."  
  
RK900 blinked some more notices about a lurking software instability away before he nodded a short approval. "Alright. Good", he said, even though he did not understand. While the Detective shook his head in the manner of a dog to get rid of the grasp of sleep, RK900 reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the recently bought chocolate bars.  
  
"I will drive", he said with a stern tone in his voice that tolerated no resistance. "And you will eat this."  
  
Detective Reed looked at the chocolate bars held in front of his face and then up at him. The crease between his brows went even deeper. "Or what?!", he said, petulantly like a child.  
  
RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Or I will drive you home, lock your door and force you to sleep myself."  
  
Even though RK900 was serious, it was a nice kind of feeling that Detective Reed obviously was not worried at all. He did not fear RK900 in any way. Even though he knew quite well that RK900 meant his threat quite literally.  
  
He made a rough, human noise before he plucked the sweets out of his partner's hand and fumbled with the foil. "I won't thank you", he grumbled under his breath. RK900 smiled. "Of course not, Detective. Will you now tell me what this is about?"  
  
The Detective had wolfed down the first chocolate bar before they even left the meeting room. "It's quite obvious how the fucker did it", he mumbled while he fumbled with the foil of the second one. "Once you saw the stuff he used. Or at least I'm pretty sure I know that guy believed himself to be a real criminal smarty. Anyway, we now have to check if I'm right."  
  
RK900 listened intently on their way through the city and could hardly believe his audio processor.  
  
"You tell me", he asked at a red traffic light. "That our suspect used gloves and shoved his weapon through a tear in an umbrella, to shield himself from gunfire residue...?"  
  
Detective Reed beside him grinned _like a loon_ and noisily broke another bite out of his third chocolate bar. "Yep", he said and sounded highly amused. "Lines up with all the evidence. The tear in the umbrella had not been there when he came in. And there was no residue on his hands or his clothes, just on the umbrella. It's ridiculous. Utterly bonkers. But if it works it ain't stupid."  
  
"So... what is it now you need to confirm?", asked RK900 while he felt a slight relief at Detective Reeds slowly normalizing body temperature, since the sugar-filled his partner's reserves of much-needed energy.  
  
Detective Reed shrugged and nodded at the illusion of a breaching whale in the clouds on the horizon. "The schedule."  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The Detroit Aquarium at night was an exceptionally pretty place. Mr. Daniel Carter opened the front door for them and, quite surprised, listened to their matter of concern.  
  
"We need to confirm a theory", Detective Reed said. "I guess, we could go and come back later to the official opening hours, but my guess was that the time of day is not really a big concern of yours, is it?"  
  
Mr. Daniel Carter looked motionlessly down at Detective Reed and did not answer right away. His gaze flickered to RK900 who nodded a short apology.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_RK900:_"Connor" recognized **INCOMMING** _ **CONNECTION** _ **REQUEST** [ **FROM** ] # 313 647 005 - 701 == **ANDROID** :_WB400:_"Mr. Daniel Carter";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
 **PING** :_"You connected to RK900, central DPD under supervision of Detective Gavin Reed. What can I do for you, ... Mister Carter?";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 005 - 701:_WB400;  
 **PONG** :_"Your partner seems like a quite insensitive prick.";  
  
If RK900 had been human, he might have swallowed something down his airways. Instead, his amusement translated into an overload of his network processes and produced an interesting noise somewhere inside his chest cavity.  
  
Detective Reed turned and frowned up at him, but RK900 only shook his head before he spoke to the security Android. "We are not here to antagonize you, Mister Carter. We just have to make sure the time schedule we reconstructed for the murder is right. Only then we can press charges against Miss Nowak's murderer that result most likely in a conviction."  
  
Mr. Daniel Carter seemed tired. He was obviously rather preoccupied and grieving, even though his expressions were through his model design strongly limited. Again his gaze crossed with RK900s.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 647 005 - 701:_WB400;  
 **PONG** :_"Do what you must. Tell me if there is anything you need.";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_RK900;  
 **PING** :_"Very well.";  
  
RK900 nodded a thank you and another soft apology. Then he turned to Detective Reed. "We can begin, Detective", he said. "Is there something you need, first?"  
  
Detective Reed had looked skeptically to and fro the two Androids, while he had pulled a pair of disposable gloves out of his jeans pocket. "Yeah... actually. Mister Carter, would it be alright for me to borrow an umbrella from your shop?"

* * *

  
  
The Schedule of the killer seemed easily enough reconstructed to its basics. RK900 followed Detective Reed's ideas step by step along the way.  
  
Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak had come inside the building and hid from the one security camera by his umbrella. Following that, he created a distraction for AFAB human Mrs. Laura Abbot, who supervised the cash register of the tourist shop. RK900 could instantly confirm through her witness statement, that Mrs. Laura Abbot had been kept busy by some tumbled over puzzle boxes that were shoved from a table near the corridor.  
  
As she had been out of the way Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak took the 'employed personal only' door behind the counter and found himself inside of the general storage area. An endless sea of boxes full of fish food, compensatory diving equipment and other things to keep the place stocked and running. As well as the second freight lift and its security ladder.  
  
"He went up this way and down the other side", said Detective Reed as he looked up the steps all the way to the top. "This way he could avoid being seen by everyone else. He wore his gloves right away and that's why we did only find his fingerprints on this ladder."  
  
RK900 narrowed his eyes while he estimated the needed energy to get a body as heavy as Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak all the way up there.  
  
"He climbed up, climbed down on the other side, killed the victim, climbed up, got rid of his gun, umbrella, and gloves and climbed down this side again", he summarized Detective Reeds Theory.  
  
Detective Reed pushed his fingers through his hair and seemed not able to look away from the bright red fire hatch that looked so tiny from their perspective. "All around? Yes. Something amiss?"  
  
RK900 frowned. "Aside from that it is the most dangerous, physically exhausting plan to ever imagined, it matches with all the evidence we gathered so far."  
  
Detective Reed shrugged again. "You saw that dude. A strong guy like that could absolutely pull that off. And if I can recreate it, then -..."  
  
"Wait", RK900 interrupted him sharply. "You do not really want to climb up four stories on a ladder without any safety measures?!"  
  
Detective Reed looked up at him as if he was the one who behaved difficultly. "Duh."  
  
This was the first moment in their short time of knowing each other that RK900 felt a sudden want to close his fingers around that human's neck and _shake some sense into him_. The sudden feeling was weird, chaotic and hot. RK900 was _angry_. "You can easily fall to your death, Detective."  
  
He twitched as Detective Reed knocked his loosely balled fist into his upper arm and rolled his eyes. "Don't be boring. You are the only safety net I need, anyway. Hey, can you really lift six times your own bodyweight?"  
  
RK900 felt a technically complete unnecessary sigh catch inside his chest. "I am physically able to catch you, Detective. That does not mean it is a good idea."  
  
Detective Reed grinned. This time the expression did not reach his eyes at all. "Almost all of my ideas are bad. Learn from it, babyface. There's a reason I wasn't partnered with anyone until they found _you_ in a forgotten storage closet."  
  
The Detective lashed out when RK900 overstrained his patience. This was not a simple game Detective Reed intended to play - it was work. Work that Detective Reed intended to do with or without RK900 approval. "And I guess if I offer to do it myself, your argument will be, that the murder was committed by a human."  
  
Detective Reed's grin widened like a baring of teeth. "Oh, you are also a real smarty, huh?"  
  
RK900 closed his eyes and created a new goal for his observations. If he analyzed the patterns, maybe he would be able to detect what made Detective Reed switch so easily between good-natured banter and openly hostile behavior. He could do this. He was _made_ for this.  
  
"Alright", he said as he opened his eyes again. Interestingly enough Detective Reed's heart seemed to skip a beat, almost as if he had hoped RK900 would dig his heels in. "I will stand right here and observe as well as document your progress. I will also construct a timeframe. As soon as you reach the top you wait for me on the other side so I can catch you if needed."  
  
Detective Reed looked at him and ended his assessment with a final nod. "... Good", he said and looked up the ladder again.  
  
RK900 still felt compelled to ask: "Are you alright, Detective?"  
  
Detective Reed's head shot around instantly. He looked RK900 up and down before he forced out a snort. In a last check, he tucked at the flimsy shoulder band that held the umbrella on his back. for good measures, he detached his gun holster, checked the safety catch and shoved his service weapon into the front of his jeans band. "Sure am. Now, you can check out for yourself what raw animalistic power looks like, tin soldier. Won't be pretty."  
  
Then he reached out and began his climb.  
RK900 started the timer.  
  
Raw animalistic power. _please_. It sounded ridiculous. But it did not look ridiculous at all.  
  
To his astonishment, RK900 had to admit that his human partner might be tiny - but he also was strong. Detective Reed's heartbeat was elevated but even, while he climbed. He took his breath controlled and slow. He did not look down, even as he slipped at one occasion and caused an ugly automatic pre-construction in RK900's software complex he had to forcefully shut down. His hold on the ladder was never broken, though.  
  
RK900 knew how the human body processed exertion and now even knew first hand what it looked on the inside. As his eyes watched for visible signs of exhaustion in Detective Reed's movement that might require him to interfere, he still wished he knew more about the specific effects exhaustion had on his partner.  
  
Detective Reed was astoundingly nimble, though. In fact, he was not far behind the average timeframe of volunteer firefighters. It almost looked easy, even though RK900 knew well enough that it was not. Two Minutes and twenty point three seconds later his left hand slapped loudly against the red hatch.  
  
"Seems doable", Detective Reed rasped, his voice rough and dry as expected. He still did not look down. RK900 filed his observations away and logged them to Ms. Nowak's case file.  
  
"You get up on your own?", he asked. Detective Reeds low groan felt endearing in a way. "Better stay where you are until I'm up. won't lie, kinda feels like my bones turned to noodles."  
  
Again he groaned and pressed his forehead against the ladder. then he stretched up and shoved against the safety hatch. it was in good order and barely made any noise as it opened. Detective Reed pulled himself up and only as he safely sat on solid ground he looked down at the first floor. "Alright, Robocop. Catch me on the other side."  
  
RK900 nodded and went on a sprint through the empty building. Since he had to go through the tunnel and the main hall first, Detective Reed had an additional minute to catch his breath until RK900 was in position.  
  
"Now it gets interesting. Didn't do that in a long while", the Detective laughed and stepped onto the ladder. But instead of actually climbing down, he only held onto the outer frame and slid it down in a way that was considered highly dangerous even by Hollywood stunt doubles. RK900 could not suppress that urge to reach out and catch him at his last three feet to the ground.  
  
Detective Reed stood and bowed over while the muscles in his thighs fired a lot of unneeded signals.  
With a low groan, he stretched his arms and shook his head. "Okay. still doable. So, he made it to the other side."  
  
RK900 looked up and down the laboratory. The technical appliances and water pumps were quite loud. "It is likely she did not hear him at first", he said and the Detective hummed. He pulled the umbrella from his back and used it to hide the gun in his hand under the waterproof cloth. "Maybe she noticed him, maybe not. I believe he instantly shot her", he said and opened the umbrella.  
  
Ms. Nowak had been shot with a .256 Winchester Magnum since her killer believed himself to be a true cowboy, it seemed. Detective Reed's service weapon was a Sig Sauer P370 and not quite as delicate as the murder weapon. It would have been easy to shove the barrel of the magnum through the cloth. Two shots in the back.  
  
"He looked to make sure she was dead, but she wasn't. so he shot her again", Detective Reed said. Then he looked at RK900. "How much time did he have until the door opened?"  
  
RK900 went through the time schedule. "One minute, five point seven seconds", he said. "Not enough to reach the top, but-..."  
  
"The first person who got in was understandably distracted by the dying woman on the floor. She didn't look up", Detective Reed concluded with a frown. "Now, that's fucked up. The victim might even saw him climb up and vanish before she died."  
  
A horrible way to die, truly.  
  
RK900 took a step back and looked up the ladder. "So?"  
  
Detective Reed groans and pushed him aside before he reached for the ladder again. "Shut up, I'm on my way."  
  
This time he was slower, but not enough to break their theory.  
  
The moment he got down on the other side again, Detective Reed sat down where he stood. RK900 smiled. "Surely, the people of Detroit will thank you for your noble sacrifice."  
  
Detective Reed looked up at him full of open disgust, but let himself get pulled upright by RK900 anyway. "Fuck off, Tin soldier, you aren't supposed to learn from that prick."  
  
RK900 lifted a brow while he closed his left arm tightly around Detective Reed's waist to hold him up. "Ah. You really think I'm better off by learning from you?"  
  
Detective Reed made his point by stepping down hard onto RK900's left foot.

* * *

  
  
Together they sat once again on that bench in front of the watertank. Again Detective Reed chewed through a cheap and soggy sandwich.  
  
this time everything was silent. The main hall was mostly dark, but the lights inside the water tank were still shining. They flickered almost blue and painted wave patterns across detective Reeds pale figure.  
  
"Ya know... this was kinda fun", Detective Reed said lowly as he was done with his meager midnight meal.  
  
RK900 thought so, too. Some new creations would make it into his pond for sure. Some more memories, for safekeeping.  
  
Calm and ... _happy_... he watched the schools of fish drift in front of him through the streams of their limited ocean. Watched all the forms and colors, listened for the sound of water.  
  
He twitched as a sudden weight leaned into his left shoulder. His processes froze for a full second as he got aware that Detective Reed had rested his head against his upper arm.  
  
As he turned his own to make an assessment, it was clear that it happened in an involuntary shift, since Detective Reed was right now fast asleep. burned out and tired enough to simply pass out where he sat.

RK900 smiled. To make sure he would not disturb him, he deactivated most of his motor functions and proceeded to listen. But this time he listened to a beating heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm almost done with a chapter when my app starts lagging.  
> Here we have some cute shit because the cute shit is what we need.
> 
> If you love this type of characterization of Gavin and Nines, go to Youtube and search for 'Detroit Evolution'. Do it!  
> I watched that fan film and it felt like a gift for me personally, it's so utterly perfect!
> 
> Gavin giving his all to [wake up](https://macherpuppy.tumblr.com/post/181929046677) Nines.  
> The 70 Minutes long Reed900 Fan Film[Detroit Evolution](https://anomalous-appliances.tumblr.com/post/615377967552643072/headcanon-send-by-cyberlife) By Octopunk Media.  
> Just an ultra cute [Cat Video](https://everythingfox.tumblr.com/post/612415942209748992/my-rescue-cat-allows-me-to-help-him-groom).


	7. The Understanding Of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Detective RK900 is done with all this vile office gossip around his partner. He simply does not agree. Mostly. 
> 
> Since he doesn't know where to start he asks Lieutenant Anderson for information. The Lieutenant asks him a simple question. Does he want to know? Or does he want to understand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💙💛❤️Update❤️💛💙
> 
> This one took ages. Maybe the next one will be a little shorter. 
> 
> You can decide for yourself if Nines is just a little overeager, curious or maybe even a little bit creepy. 
> 
> Please, relax, have some fun, drink lots of water and leave me a little present at the end 💌

RK900 waited out exactly three complete REM cycles on that bench. Going by his textbook knowledge of the human brain and its basic requirements, the sleep intervals should have made his partner more aware when RK900 woke him up.

Yet Detective Reed was not aware _at all_ when he finally opened his eyes again.

RK900 was sure Detective Reed heard him speak just fine when he talked to him - but he seemingly did not understand a single sound of what was said.

"Please, Detective, you should take more rest at home", RK900 said as he slipped an arm around the Detective's shorter frame while his left hand pressed carefully against his chest to stabilize him while they walked. Detective Reed looked up at him and blinked drowsily far too many times before he turned his head and let his gaze simply wander. "I think I can taste colors right now", he croaked out of a dry mouth with a lame tongue, before he almost unhinged his jaw through a reflexive yawn that made his eyes flow over.

Detective Reed was asleep as soon as he fell into the seat of his car, so RK900 took it on himself to drive him to his registered home address.

As a simple machine RK900 should have had no expectations at all, but what he saw when he parked the car in front of the building marked by his operating system still caught him by surprise.

The apartment block that Detective Reed called his home was a big unkempt building in Lower Eastwitch that looked as if it had been once a warehouse of a sort, restructured into at least a hundred separate housing areas. Detroit's neighborhood rebuilding program had obviously not reached this part of town yet and it seemed questionable if it ever would. More likely seemed a complete controlled demolition of the whole building structure.

When RK900 woke Detective Reed up again and herded him over the threshold, he instantly identified the chemical composition of black mold in the stale cold air of the staircase. The stairs in the hall were made of wood, sounded awfully loud, and cried under every taken step. To use them did not feel safe - but there was no alternative and the Detective's apartment was on the fifth floor.

RK900 decided to walk right behind him, just to avoid the heightened possibility of a stumbling fall of his partner. In the meantime, he analyzed their surroundings. Down by the front door he had seen a row of postboxes which implied that at least forty seven other people shared this building with Detective Reed. The whole staircase was filled with little signs of life.

On one floor RK900 identified cigarette burns at the handrail. On the next he took notice of a carving in the rotting wood of a door frame that showed the names _Rose + Tenner_ framed by an extremely simplified version of a human heart. All of the walls were covered in years old unimaginative graffiti. The whole place seemed... _hopeless_ in some way.

Somehow frozen in time.

As Detective Reed stopped in front of his apartment door and fumbled softly swaying for the keys, RK900 registered the scratched up lock, which implied that somewhere in the past at least three break-ins had been attempted. More disturbing were the traces of blood on the wall beside the door.

RK900 identified it as non-human, but the hardly scrubbed off traces, invisible to the human eye, still spelled out the word _Bastard_. The abbreviation _ACAB_ seemed to be a recurring theme around this place.

A deep crease formed between RK900's lowered brows. It only faded when Detective Reed was finally able to open the door.

At this time it might not have been his intention, but RK900's operating system took instantly notice of all the hidden details of Detective Reed's chosen life. The first thing he registered was that Detective Reed lived for approximately fifteen years at the same place.

It was a simple two-room apartment, filled with minimal furniture. The ceiling was low in comparison to the average Detroit apartment building guidelines and was held up by visible crossbeams.

Where Lieutenant Anderson's home was full of pictures and trinkets and little reminders of his long lifetime, this apartment seemed empty in a way that caused RK900s thirium pump to stutter with unfounded error reports.

Detective Reed ignored him completely while he stumbled inside and let himself fall face-first into the small but comfortable looking leather couch.

RK900 stood at a loss since technically he had now done everything needed to reduce his handler's risk of bodily harm by accompanying him home when Detective Reed could not be trusted to reach it safely by himself. But RK900 felt not _ready_ to leave just yet, since it simply did not _seem_ to him like the right thing to do. Hesitantly RK900 walked over to the couch.

"Come on, Detective", he said lowly while he pulled him back onto his feet. Detective Reed answered only in incoherent mumbles and was easily manhandled across the room to the one door that did not lead to the bathroom.

As soon as the door was opened, RK900 saw something he instantly knew he should not have seen. The room was functional and held only a bed and a dresser with a single framed picture on top of it which RK900 avoided to examine too closely.

But the most prominent marker of Detective Reed's bedroom had to be the noose that dangled from one of the crossbeams right in front of that laughably tiny window. On a cord attached to the rope dangled a colorful paper card that identified the noose as an _emergency exit_. The card also advertised a joke-gift shop near Davenport.

RK900 gave his delirious handler a gentle shove and placed him on the bed before he proceeded to untie his shoes for him. Then he went back into the living room to get a glass of water from the kitchen nook. It was obviously rarely used.

Surprising was the damage in the ceiling right above the kitchen table. RK900 looked up to analyze the years old damage. A single gunshot had once left a telling mark in the wood of a crossbeam. There were not enough clues to reconstruct the scene, but with the signs of recurring break-ins at the door, this mark at the ceiling had to be a leftover from that mentioned incident. RK900 found it somehow... _troubling_ to speculate on why Detective Reed had decided to stay after it all.

He proceeded to fill a glass with water and stepped slow and silently back into Detective Reed's bedroom.

The Detective was already fast asleep by now. With a rough turn, he had tangled his feet into the blanket while his fingers tightly clawed around the next pillow he had been able to reach.

His mouth was slightly opened while he sucked down deep but not quite silent breaths through a part of the pillowcase he kept on pressing to his face. His heartbeat was still elevated and jumped in an uneven rhythm - at least uneven to RK900 heightened perception.

RK900's visual trackers twitched again over the photograph on Detective Reed's dresser, which he finally identified as no photograph at all.

The moment RK900 gave in to his natural curiosity he realized it was a framed picture out of a folded Gazette article - old enough to still be a paper print issue.

Interestingly enough, it showed Mr. Elijah Kamski at a surprising young age.

A cross-reference search through Cyberlife's Database confirmed it as the photograph accompanying the first publicized article about thirium based android technology. It showed Mr. Elijah Kamski sitting on a step ladder while he worked around the head structure of an early android prototype.

The proto-android did barely look humanoid and seemed more like a conglomerate out of a stiff structural carcass and endless cords of connecting wires in a hundred different colors. A simple _Robot_ of a sort. Thirium had not been a core component yet, only used as a coolant and to connect the _brain_ to the _guts_ like the spinal cord of the human nervous system.

Mr. Elijah Kamski seemed small and exceptionally thin in that picture. His gaunt and pale face mirrored the signs of his body's obvious exhaustion. The glasses on his nose sat awry but he did not seem to care.

RK900's eyes fixated Detective Reed's silently snoring figure. There was a strong resemblance to this years-old version of Mr. Kamski and again RK900's Cyberlife Database linked him the glitching data entry of [Detective Gavin Reed // <5%&$^ Mr. Gavin Kamski %^^$>]. The last time they had met, RK900 did not bother to ask any questions. Asking questions just was not what he had been made for, he thought.

But today, even though quite little time had passed, RK900 figured he had been wrong - in a way.

He was an investigative Android model. To be curious and learn new intelligence was his entire purpose. He was _meant_ to ask questions.

Maybe someday he would find another opportunity to question his maker about the choice he had made in sending RK900 to Detective Reed.

After he had placed the glass of water together with the car keys at Detective Reed's bedside, RK900 finally decided to take his leave and softly closed the apartment door behind him.

On his walk back to the precinct he thought about the meaning of it all. His artificial mind wandered on all on its own to the heavyweight of missed opportunities and lost brothers out of reach.

Like usual RK900 sat down at his desk and worked through the night. Surrounded by the night shift he updated Ms. Nowak's case file, while he invested twenty percent of his processing power into the task of gathering more information about Mr. Elijah Kamski.

There was nothing to be found about him until he had hit the age of twenty-one. Almost as if a Mr. Kamski had not existed before. Well, there were his resume data points - but they were hollow bots on a profile without a single spec of background information.

When the lack of viable results began to make him restless, RK900 shifted his priorities and started a search for entry points to his and his brothers memory backup server instead. Still, he could not simply break through its ridiculously tight structured cybersecurity protocols.

The moment he thought he broke through the last obstacle in his way, he was stopped by another outlandish encryption he could not decode without the proper keyword - which was a curious thing in of itself since neither Connor's nor his own server connection was secured with a passcode unbeknown to the both of them.

RK900 went on and dedicated eighty percent of his processor capacity to compile a working decryption algorithm which he used in combination with all of his own software keys to find the password that would give him access to the lost RK800's memory files.

Since it was not working he even reached out to Conner so he could work through all of his brother's as well. None of their own software keys were useful to decrypt the access code.

It felt... _frustrating_ in a way that was hard to describe. A purely emotional reaction to a hopeless situation. It was the first time RK900 activated stasis and shut down all of his none relevant protocols for the rest of the night.

The next time he opened his eyes, Detective Reed sat down behind his own desk.

RK900's brows dipped into a deep frown. His partner's core body temperature was once more lesser than recommended and the one of his limbs even lower. Detective Reeds breathing pattern was calm but strangely deliberate. "Good morning, Detective", RK900 stated as a greeting. Detective Reed grunted an answering human noise while he sipped at the mug between his hands. He did not look up at him and also did not say a word.

RK900 decided to monitor the situation so he was prepared to intervene should it be necessary. But for now, it was not.

Their common workday began with sorting through the preparations of their charge against Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak. A lot of paperwork needed to be filed and signatures taken. RK900 was able to see and understand the bigger picture and the necessity of it all. Yet it was a part of police work that seemed to him unexpectedly mundane.

RK900 felt _bored_.

His eyes blinked up to Detective Reed when he interrupted his own conversational task assignment to Officer Miller to search through his entire desk. "...- you stay available. Might able to book him right this afternoon, since we only need-..."  
A deep scowl stretched the scar on the bridge of the Detective's nose into a fine white line while he bared his teeth through an aggressive snarl. "No, seriously fuck that guy, where to the fucking gods is my god damn pen when I _fucking_ need it?!"

A lilt of amusement tinged RK900 voice when he said, "Your pen is currently located in your left hand, Detective.

Detective Reed instantly twitched around to him, maybe just to tell RK900 to fuck off. But then he looked down at his left hand where he held that pen in a tight grip between his slightly crooked fingers. Speechlessly he opened his mouth while his expression fell even darker. "... Yes", he said slowly and stretched. Despite his partners threatening aura was Officer Miller hard-pressed to keep a straight face. Detective Reed secured himself his ongoing attention by a flawlessly aimed punch to his Belly.

The brave man bowed over and hissed sharply through his teeth. He never stopped grinning, though.

Detective Reed pointedly cleared his throat. "Shut up", he said and lifted his right hand, twitched his index and middle finger. Officer Miller handed him the form so Detective Reed could put down his signature. The Moment Officer Miller resumed to the next bureaucratic checkpoint at Lieutenant Andersons desk, the Detective lifted his gaze and stared down RK900.

He seemed to search for something, but again did not say a single thing. Nontypical for him he already lowered his eyes after only three point seven seconds. The Detective lifted his empty mug for the sole purpose of hiding his reddening face behind it. Once more Detective Reed pretended to concentrate on the paperwork, even though RK900 already knew his workday productivity was this morning at an unusual low.

At twelve fourteen am they were finally ready to bring the case of Ms. Nowak's murder up to AFAB human Dr. Penny Rockson --- District Attorney // 51 years of age // Domiciled in 23 high circle --- No criminal record --- extensive medical records because of ongoing breast cancer treatment --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '64.83' marked under 'high priority'.

All they needed now was her signature. When she decided they had enough evidence to convict the right man the case would go to court.

"We all witnessed our fair share of violent men, didn't we, Detective", she asked a human typical non-question while a provocative smile lingered on her lips. It did not reach her eyes at all and made RK900 feel... _uncomfortable_ , in a way. She did not even take a glance at him while she stared down Detective Reed.

The Detective sat motionlessly opposite from her in the one visitors' chair. His arms he held tightly crossed in front of his chest. Detective Reed did not say anything while he returned her sharp stare like hypnotized prey.

His heartbeat was already elevated by thirteen bpm since they entered her office and gave RK900 somehow the phantom feedback of cold dead tissue in the palm of his hands. Detective Reed's breathing pattern was slow and even but too shallow to be natural. He held his breath in steady cycles of five seconds like one might do for controlled exercises.

And then there was this _smell_.

RK900 had to revise his opinion. He certainly did not _like_ the smell of a human in distress. But he utterly _despised_ the stench of a human's fear.

Dr. Penny Rockson made a low human noise while she lifted her coffee cup to warm her hands. The pronounced blue veins along her fingers made them almost look fragile. "This one seems like a simple case of _punishing the evil witch_ ", she said. "A lot of spouses kill their wives. It makes Mr. Nowak a quite... convenient suspect. His defense attorney will think so, too", she said and lifted her brows.

RK900 could not help but think that she was saying something different underneath. Something he was not likely to _get_.

"What can you tell me about this man, Detective Reed", Dr. Rockson asked and slightly shifted in her seat. "That makes your case against him not only believable but also likely."

Detective Reed took a deep and soundless breath and then went on to make his statement. He went through their constructed timeline, all the evidence, and mentioned the suspect's fingerprints on the ladder, as well as his DNA on the used gloves. "Mister Nowak was there, he had a motive and no alibi. His fingerprints aren't on the weapon and just on one of the two ladders, but I made sure we can explain exactly how and why that is."

Dr. Penny Rockson lifted one of her thick brows and made a noise that was clearly designed as dismissive, even recognized as such by RK900's lacking social protocol. Detective Reed's heart rate spiked, but outwardly he did not react to her obvious provocation. "I read your little adventure, Detective Reed", Dr. Rockson said and pointed at her work pad. "A wild ride from start to finish."

Detective Reed slowly nodded while he narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. That's why we ran an experiment to make sure the timing is even possible. We can assure you, _it is_."

" _You_ ran an _experiment_ ", Dr. Penny Rockson said through an undertone of ridicule that did not seem to fit the conversation.

RK900 frowned as he understood that Dr. Penny Rockson called Detective Reed's dedication into question. So he took the district attorney's work pad and forced an interface. He gave it right back to her before she could utter a single complaint.

In the following minutes, Dr. Rockson went through RK900's compiled video footage of Detective Reed's grand exercise. Three times she almost seemed impressed, but in the end could still not hold back her comments about Detective Reed's _lacking performance._

The Detective did not say anything until everything was done. A frozen non-expression on his face.

Eighty-seven minutes into that highly uncomfortable meeting they finally got the needed signature and Detective Reed was in a combination blunt and fast to excuse them both.

Back inside the bullpen, Detective Reed slammed down a copy of the signed documents onto Lieutenant Anderson's desk. A deep huff moved his shoulders right before he turned and stomped into the general direction of the break room.

RK900 watched him go and just knew that something was _not right_ today.

"You've done nothing wrong", said Lieutenant Anderson with an amused lilt in his voice. "Some days people are just bad at being people, that's all."

Detective Reed was not prone to socialize and most likely had few emotional let outs. It did not come as a surprise to RK900 that his partner sometimes came down with _bad days_ , in one way or another.

RK900 pressed his analyzing tool to the roof of his oral cavity and let out a deep scalding breath.

"Maybe now", he said, deliberately slow as he turned around to Lieutenant Anderson. "You can tell me how Detective Reed earned his reputation."

.....

.....

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **OPEN** CL.Database.cfx;  
**SELECT** "OBSERVATION" **FROM** "MEMORY.CORE.SYSTEM" **WHERE** "SUBJECT" == "DT REED";

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 RUN vid_an+eva.exe;  
**SELECT** \--- **FILE**  
"xx_xx_xxxx";  
\-----> "operating_instruction_964-543.vid --- ('00¦03¦52' --- '00¦04¦03')";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";  
"xx_xx_xxxx.vid";

 **TRANSCRIPT** :_"I'm not the good guy. I'm never the good guy, since when do I have to be the fuckin'-...";

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **CLOSE** CL.Database.cfx;

.....

.....

RK900 perceived the vile rumors around Detective Reed's person as a waste of his time and processing power. His partner was an unfriendly person but by far no, as he called it, _monster under the bed_.

The open workplace hostility Detective Reed faced seemed out of proportions and RK900, with his limited knowledge and social abilities, was not able to assess if his partner's worst behavior was cause or effect of his environment.

All of it lacked sense and logic and it clearly conflicted with most of RK900's own observations.

Detective Reed was rude and blunt and did not care in a way that made his feelings obvious to other people. But he did _care_. He did _feel_. Like RK900, Detective Reed did feel _plenty_.

RK900 shifted his gaze to Lieutenant Anderson. The Lieutenant rubbed his fingers along his jawline through his tousled beard while he looked RK900 up and down. A frown made a soft crease appear between his brows. "I... have a question for you, there", he said, his voice low and deep. His blue eyes narrowed as he leaned back into his seat. RK900 slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Lieutenant Anderson _smiled_.

"Do you want to know what happened?", he asked RK900 with a gaze _as sharp as a knife's edge_. "Or do you want to _understand_? And do you realize that those are actually two very different things?"

Knowing and understanding came to RK900 as one and the same, so he frowned because he obviously did not understand at all.

If he knew something, he instantly filled the gaps to understand it. If he knew the details about a crime scene he could instantly reverse engineer the murder. If he knew what caused Detective Reed's distress, he might be able to-...

" _He is in pain_ ", RK900 said, equally low and earnest. "I do not like that."

The Lieutenant held his gaze without even a twitch of his eyes. Whatever he believed to see in RK900's artificial ones made his frown slowly disappear.  
The Lieutenant made a low human sound, somewhere between a huff and a hum, before he lifted his index finger in front of RK900's face. "A proposal", he said. "Can't stop you from being a smart arse and doing your observations and whatnot, so I make you a deal, champ."

Again his eyes narrowed down and this time RK900 identified the Lieutenant's expression as gravely serious. "This evening", he said deliberately slow and stretched. "I will ask you one question about him. Just one. If you can answer me _this one question_ I will help you out."

One question.

"Deal", RK900's said instantly and accepted the challenge with a strong handshake, even though Lieutenant Andersons tight grip left a prickling feeling all over the palm of his right hand.

RK900 had accepted a new secondary mission.  
He had to be fast and thorough.

When he turned around RK900's artificial mind was already reeling.

He could not ask the Detective himself for information. Aside from that, it would only make him angry, he would not answer truthfully to any of RK900s questions. All of the obvious, socially accepted questions RK900 could answer a lot faster himself through access to his partner's DPD qualification profile.

A better way to compile a useful dataset would be to interrogate Detective Reed's _horribly short list of trusted confidants_.

.....

.....

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **OPEN** "MEMORY.CORE.SYSTEM";

 **CREATE** **DIRECTORY** ..\ "Detective Gavin Reed";

 **PASTE** **TABLE** handler_index ("...");

 **CREATE** **TABLE** known_contacts (

"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Officer Tina Chen";  
"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Officer Chris Miller";  
"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Officer Ben Collins";  
"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Detective Connor Anderson";  
"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Lieutenant Hank Anderson";  
"DPD_ID:xxx/xxxxx" ¦ "Captain Jeffrey Fowler"; )

 **ANDROID** :_[RK:X:900_OS_87.857] **RUN** RK:X:900_encrypt.exe

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **SET PRIVATE** _ **KEY** "**********";

 **ANDROID** :_RK900 **CLOSE** "MEMORY.CORE.SYSTEM";

**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed'; 'Gavin') --- **STATUS** _ **UPDATE** ;

 **HANDLER** :_Relationship_status == [ **M̵̨̙͔͈͖̭̭͚̦I͏N̳̘̘͒̽ͮE̛ͣ͂ͪ͑͊̑͡** ];

.....

.....

Sharply RK900 blinked away another software instability notice.

The most promising lead to actual answers was obviously Officer Chen - but to get the perspective of other Officers could only widen the spectrum of available information.

While RK900 already carried the full dataset Connor provided him with, Captain Fowler or his precursor was the one who accepted Detective Reed's application in the first place. He also tolerated all of his social missteps. The question was _why_?

RK900 calculated a high probability of data manipulation. The glitching profile of _Mr. Gavin Kamski_ linked to Detective Reed's Database entry made it quite obvious because Mr. Gavin Kamski did not exist. Official Records called Mr. Elijah Kamski an only child to unknown parents even though a comparison of their biometrics made a direct relation very likely.

Why would Detective Reed decide to hide his relation to a person with such immense social power as Mr. Kamski?

Why would he live in a place like Eastwitch?

There were just so many questions. RK900 was not able to comprehend how his colleagues did not take notice of them and did not care at all about the lack of available information.

And while RK900 did not like the notion of simply _not knowing things_ , he even more despised Detective Reed's chosen path of self-destructive isolation.

Detective Gavin Reed was part of the most social social species that inhabited the planet - so social, in fact, that it adopted frequently other species into its family units and empathized even with lifeless machines.

RK900 took a deep breath and forced out all the heat surrounding his secondary processor through a long and steady exhale. He watched Detective Reed in his chair flicking his thumb repeatedly over the screen of his phone while the bridge of his nose wrinkled up through a soundless snarl.

RK900 went to the break room and reached out for a clean cup. In the outer corner of his vision, he spotted Officer Chen and instantly turned to step into her way.

"Oh, hey-hey there, big guy! watch your step", she squeaked and almost stumbled as she took a jump back to evade a collision. RK900 did not bother to placate her since no harm had been done. "Officer Chen, would it be alright for me to share my afternoon break with you today?"

Wide-eyed she blinked up at him and made a nonsensical noise while her cheeks flushed red. "I'm, uh-..."

RK900 did not wait. "Excellent", he said and turned. "I will get back to you in thirty minutes."

Then he took the newly filled mug and walked over to his partner's desk. In a gentle motion he placed the coffee mug down on it and watched Detective Reed twitch aware at the noise.

The Detective already drew a breath to snarl at him, but finally did not when his gaze snapped down onto the cup. His gaze flickered to RK900, then to the cup and back again before his dark expression stretched the scar on the bridge of his nose into a prominent white line.

"What kind of asshamstering program are you running...?!", Detective Reed hissed venomously through his teeth. RK900 did not bother to present his partner with a convincing facial expression and gave him the verbal equivalent of a risen middle finger instead. Detective Reed seemed to need something insignificant and meaningless to fight. RK900 realized that he did not mind to provide. "The kind that Cyberlife deemed most adequate, to establish a functional work relationship even with especially difficult humans like yourself, Detective."

Detective Reed rolled his eyes, but reached out and took the mug anyway. "Fuck off. As if I need-..."

The mobile in his other hand announced a new message. Detective Reed's eyes widened as he went so hastily through his inbox that he almost spilled his coffee all over his lap. RK900 was tempted to check the message for himself but eventually decided against it. Detective Reed's tense expression relaxed the more he read. The muscles along his shoulders loosened while his chest sunk through a long shivering exhale.

"Anyway", he murmured distractedly. "We still have to book Nowak. Chris is on it, he only waits for-..."

Officer Chris Miller was another one of RK900's most promising leads. This was a good opportunity to pull him aside and ask him some questions. RK900 still had twenty-three minutes. "I will go and ask if I can be of assistance", he interrupted Detective Reed and shot out of his seat. He made sure he was already out of reach before Detective Reed had gathered enough breath to call him back.

Officer Chris Miller was not far away. Right now he waited next to the empty observation room and looked rather bored with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He turned when he noticed RK900 approached him and opened his mouth for a greeting, but RK900 had no time to lose to niceties. So he simply pulled Officer Miller around by his uniform into the observation room. "Hello Officer Miller, I heard you are having the most productive day so far", he said while he showed a cyberlife approved expression that, under testing conditions, produced a seventy-six percent probability in his counterpart's perception of highlighting all of RK900's none threatening features.

Officer Chris Miller followed RK900's beta test logs quite nicely and did not react alarmed, but rather confused and curious. "Uh, I guess so...?", he said and furrowed his brows as RK900 closed the door behind them.

RK900 smiled. "I do not intend to hold you up for long. Officer Miller, would you aid me in my investigation by answering me some questions?"

Officer Miller blinked and slowly nodded while he listened. "Why you-... uh... sure? Okay... ?"

He seemed surprised. Was it so far fetched for RK900 to enlist him for support? Or was RK900 just a bit too blunt. In the end it did not matter, so RK900 began with his mild interrogation. "How long do you know Detective Reed, Officer?"

It was interesting to witness how much change this simple question caused to Officer Miller's vitals. His heart noticeably _skipped a beat_ and then went on seven bpm faster than before. His brows lowered into a deep frown as he looked first at RK900 and then at the closed door behind him. "In- Investigation...?", he stuttered, now visibly alarmed. He opened his mouth again without anything to say before he roughly made a gesture over his right shoulder and shook his head. "I won't help anyone to search through my co-workers' dirty laundry", he said and then suddenly stopped. "As long as no one got hurt... please tell me nobody got hurt..?"

Officer Miller had taken RK900's statement literally. He thought of official procedures. Which was a curious reaction, indeed. Had there been internal investigations regarding Detective Gavin Reed before? Or was Officer Miller just careful _not to wake sleeping dogs_?

Detective Reed's profile did not mention internal affairs. RK900 shook his head to get the conversation back onto a productive level. "This is not an official interrogation, I can assure you. I value your loyalty, Officer Miller, and I am sure Detective Reed does so, too. But this is a strictly personal matter. I found myself curious."

Officer Miller slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. Again his gaze flickered to the closed door. "Aha...?"

RK900 narrowed his eyes. Compared to his predecessor, he was not made to be patient. He was not made to _negotiate_. " _Please_ ", he said, rather stiff and tonelessly, since he could not expect to get his answers without an ounce of trust in return.

Detective Miller looked up at him and thought hard enough about what he should do and say next, that RK900 could see it reflected in his vitals and micro-expressions. Even though he could not correctly interpret any of the latter. Finally, Officer Miller nodded his accordance. "Alright", he said. "I'm... uh... not that long a part of central, only joined three years ago. I came from Southwark station. I'm under Detective Reed's supervision ever since."

He still spoke slower than usual and strangely deliberate. He did not lie, concluded RK900, but he was prepared to leave things out, should he get the feeling that RK900 was _fishing for dirt_. Officer Miller would make a brilliant friend.

RK900 nodded and filed the newly gathered information away. "Did you two ever work together?"

Officer Miller's shoulders slowly sunk while he at the same time lifted his brows. "Uh... of course?", he stuttered, unsure. "I mean, in the sense that he gives me my assignments if I'm not called in by an operator. I get the witness statements, supervise and secure the crime scenes and prepare most of the documentation for him."

That was only a better-worded version of his job description. Nothing more than that? Had Detective Reed seriously never bothered to pull another person into his workplace orbit? Not even Officer Miller?

"What do you think about him as a superior Officer?", RK900 asked next and prepared to filter for white lies or dropped truths. He would have liked to encourage Officer Miller in some way, but RK900 saw himself confronted with the ugly truth that an unpracticed smile was perceived worse by his interlocutors than no expression at all.

Again Officer Miller made an assessment of his own. "Your _investigation_...", he said, slowly. "Arkay, are you worried that he might treat you differently than the rest of us?"

In a way? RK900 tilted his head in thought before he nodded in acknowledgment. "I found it... _intriguing_ that I work already for three weeks with him and know basically _nothing_ about him", he said while his brows dropped into a deep frown. "If you allude to Anti-Android sentiment? It was not my intention to imply anything in that regard."

Officer Miller let out a low hum while he visibly relaxed even further and his heart rate normalized along with his previously so tense breathing pattern. "Detective Reed is an angry man", he finally said and shrugged. "He is a guy that's really god damn hard to deal with until you start to translate and understand his vocabulary. He's just the type that barks and bites a lot, because he knows people get their work done that tiny bit faster when they are maybe just a little bit afraid of him. Honestly, he reminds me of my old math teacher."

Officer Miller scratched along his jawline while he further spoke his mind. "He's loud and angry and a pain in anyone's ass. but... he's also always the first in line. Usually, the first to volunteer. He even covered some shifts for me when Damian was born and Veronica and I struggled to find a new routine."

RK900 was not surprised. Officer Miller's statement came a lot closer to his own assessment than Doctor Stillman's. Officer Miller presented Detective Reed as a hardworking professional with limited social competence. RK900 nodded and went on with his questions. "Can you give me a personal assessment of his character?"

To his surprise Officer Chris Miller let out a sharp snort while a crooked grin spread on his face. "He's an utter asshole", he said and seemed to deem RK900's question sufficiently answered. RK900 nodded and moved on.

"Would you consider him your friend?"

Officer Miller's wide grin dropped instantly. Surprised he looked up at RK900, almost as if he searched for a verbal trap or a trick question. "No", he finally said and slowly shook his head. "I guess not. I mean -...", he took a breath and looked away while he lifted the hat of his uniform to scratch with his fingertips along his head. "I kinda would like to be someday? Detective Reed is loud and annoying and a real pain, but... he has always been fair so far. At least to humans, I guess. You are right to ask questions, you know. Now that I think of it, I don't know much about him either."

RK900 nodded and marked the new information down into Officer Chris Miller's contact file. "What do you know about the ongoing fight between Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed?"

Officer Miller's brows shot up as he wide-eyed lifted both of his hands in a clear warning, while he strongly shook his head. "Oh no, I won't say anything about that. As far as I know, this goes far back. Far longer than I am stationed at central. All you would get from me is useless superficial half-knowledge that might give you the completely wrong Idea. Nope."

Officer Miller was not prone to spread around rumors. RK900 made another annotation to Officer Miller's file and smiled. "Thank you for your honest cooperation, Officer."

Officer Miller nodded while his brows dropped into another deep frown. "If there is... a problem with Detective Reed", he said again in this slow and deliberate tone of voice. "You don't have to deal with it on your own. You know I'll back you up?"

RK900's Cyberlife approved expression fell off his face and slowly he nodded his acknowledgment. "While I appreciate your concern, Officer, I can assure you that there is no such _problem_. I only had to listen to a lot of", he searched for an appropriate word. " _Unfavorable_ rumors about my partner and would like to know with whom I am working."

Officer Miller made a low noise and widened his eyes as a sign of his understanding. "Aaah, okay. Well, can't really help you with the stuff that's spread around about him. Aside from that, I don't believe most of it. Anyway, he's a lot calmer with you around, I really hope you'll stay."

 _Calmer_ , almost as if they were talking about an anxious animal. RK900 slowly nodded. "It could be just a consequence of Detective Reed's tendency to search endlessly for conflict. If you regularly provide it for him, he tires and becomes almost level headed."

Officer Miller still laughed as RK900 spoke his thanks and excused himself from their conversation.

A complete waste of time.

He had not learned anything new about his partner, but at least he could now work around the theory that Dr. Stillman's strong animosity _could_ be an outlier. RK900 still wanted to know more. He had seven more minutes until his meet up with Officer Chen.

RK900 decided to invest again into some sweets from the next vending machine, because humans generally seemed to like overly sweet things. It was a shame that RK900 would never be able to understand the appeal since he only could analyze the food's chemical composition.

That was the reason why yesterday he had not even cared about the different flavors. and got the Detective simply the first colorful packaging he saw. Now he pulled out three different colors: blue, green and black.

The blue wrapped chocolate bar contained milk - or at least a white surrogate powder that was advertised as such. The green one contained nuts and milk powder and the red one was dark chocolate, known for its _rich and bitter_ taste.

RK900 did not understand that notion but the red chocolate was the most expensive one of his chosen sample size and also the one most seldomly purchased. An _acquired taste_ , maybe.

When RK900 finally strode back into the bullpen he found Officer Chen by Officer Abel's desk, involved in an intense none work-related conversation about different types of cat food.

RK900 felt not patient enough to stand and wait, so he leaned with an approved cyberlife expression on his face into the limited space between the two Officers, that was specifically composed to lower stress reactions in his human coworkers. "I am sorry to interrupt, but Officer Chen and I have a scheduled meeting now", he said while he locked his arm around Officer Tina Chen's right elbow and pulled her along with him into the corridor.

Officer Chen did not hold him up, but it would be a lie to say she was pleased by the current situation. "What the-... Big guy, let go and let me catch a breath here, what the hell", she complained noisily while RK900 marched her through the lobby and out of the door.

She already opened her mouth to voice further grievances, but RK900 reacted faster by waving the three different chocolate bars he bought in front of her face. Instantly her eyes followed the movement and focused on the colorful packagings. "I-... uh...", skeptically Officer Chen's gaze flickered from the sweets up to RK900 and back down again - before she grumbled something low under her breath and, like predicted, accepted the bribery. She picked the green one. Interesting.

"Why did you pick that one, Officer?", he asked and felt quite curious. Officer Chen shrugged. "It's crunchy. The blue ones are just basic", she said.

They sat down on a bench at the plaza, not occupied by other Officers on break. The sun and the generally cold but blue-skied weather made people a lot more social, it seemed. Some Officers and other Office workers lingered in small groups around the place while others sat alone and ate their work-break dinner.

"What is it, big guy? You seem a bit excited? Did something happen?", Officer Chen mumbled through the chocolate in her mouth, while RK900 took a general look around. "Excited?", he asked. "No. At the moment I compute a minor private investigation on a limited timeframe and would like to ask you some questions. Are you amenable, Officer Chen?"

" _A minor private investigation on a limited timeframe_ ", repeated Officer Chen in a strange kind of voice. RK900 frowned. "That is what I said."

Officer Chen let out a sharp snort and knocked her elbow hard into his side before she broke another piece of chocolate out of the bar. "Yeah, yeah, got it. What kind of questions do you have for me?"

Officer Miller reacted rather alarmed to RK900's inquiry. RK900 found himself curious if his questions would produce a similar result in Officer Chen. "How long do you know Detective Reed, Officer?", he began his mild interrogation once more.

Officer Chen's eyes widened as she opened her mouth and made a noise of silent understanding. "Oooh, it's about _him_."

Noisily she clapped her hands together and rubbed them quickly against each other while a wide grin lightened up her face. "Should have said that outright!"

First, she made a noise that implied that she was thinking before she bit down on another piece of chocolate and answered RK900's question with a bright glint of... _glee_ in her eyes.

"I know him for quite a while, actually, now that I think of it", she said. Slightly she turned her body around and pulled her left knee onto the bench while she placed her arm along the backrest. "We were at the academy together", she said with a note of excitement in her voice - before her face slowly fell. Distractedly she looked at the row of flowers in the wide stone pot behind them. "Even though I suspect, he doesn't remember me."

Officer Chen frowned but then waved her hand in a punctuating gesture. "Isn't a big deal, though. We weren't really close, I suppose. Anyway, after training and qualifications I was stationed at Ferndale until I got transferred to central roughly five years ago. Was really glad to see a familiar face. Even though he's very different from what I remember of him."

Very different but still familiar. RK900 frowned and made a low noise before he asked further questions. "Are you referring to something specific?"

Officer Chen stiffened and followed her little vincing noise up with a clearing of her throat. "Look", she finally said, slowly and a bit stretched. "This precinct is known everywhere for its tragedies. When I got here, it was not... _a good time_ to be around. Back then, I was transferred as a substitute for a recently resigned Officer. I don't know much about what happened before, but..."

She frowned and then stopped. Finally, she lifted the packaging in her hand and bit down on another piece of chocolate before she spoke up again. "Back at the academy Reed was known as _the silent guy_ ", she mumbled and RK900 began instantly to add another note to Detective Reed's folder. "You could have called him shy, even. He talked to nobody if not prompted. Aside from the Instructors. One of those exemplary students. The authorities _loved_ him."

Officer Chen suddenly frowned down at the chocolate in her hand. "Well, I guess they still do. I mean, the Captain falls all over himself to keep him, even though Reed makes himself almost impossible to work with. He... has changed. By a lot. Now he isn't just silent. He's-..."

She stopped, frowned, and obviously searched for a word precise enough to describe the Detective's ever-present ire. RK900 could not help her with the emotional aspect, so he just said: "Angry."

Officer Chen pushed out a sharp snort but nodded her acknowledgment. "Yeah. _Angry_. But I guess if I had almost been killed and had to think of it every time I looked into a mirror..."

RK900 slowly tilted his head while his brows dipped into a frown. "You are talking about his facial scars."

Again Officer Chen shrugged as she nibbled at the chocolate bar. "Of course it's mostly speculation on my part, though", she muttered. Lowly, as if worried that someone might overhear their conversation. "I don't know how he got them. Just the official statement that they were caused by the intruders of his home."

Officer Chen pulled her face into a sour grimace. "When I transferred to central, they still looked fresh. And painful."

In general, it seemed that Officer Chen was a lot more open to talk about her relations to her superiors and Co-workers - but that did not seem to be all. She looked at RK900 as if she expected him to ask questions. Or rather, as if she waited for him to ask one very specific question he had not thought to ask yet. RK900 found himself intrigued.

While he avoided her inquiring gaze, RK900 folded his hands in his lap and looked out across the plaza. "Doctor Lola Stillman mentioned that Detective Reed outed your relationship preferences forcefully to your co-workers."

It was not really a question, but a statement that could help RK900 to determine how _cruel_ and _thoughtless_ his partner actually was.

Officer Chen reacted surprisingly agitated. Instantly her head snapped back around to him as she narrowed her eyes in a universal sign of aversion. "Who?!"

It then came to RK900's mind that Officer Chen might not have frequent points of contact with one of the full-time coroners. This again made RK900 conclude, that Dr. Stillman maybe had only ever heard about this specific incident through _office gossip_.

He wanted to clarify to Officer Chen who he was talking about, but she instantly reacted with a flippant gesture of her hand and shook her head. "No need. Anyway, aside from the fact that this big smarty did seemingly right the fucking same, since you now know about it, that's mostly hot garbage talk", she said and wrinkled her nose. Her expression changed when she turned and knocked her left elbow once more hard into his side. "What do you know about human _relationship preferences_ anyway, Robocop?"

There was a quirk in her sudden smile that caught RK900 by surprise. Slowly he tilted his head and frowned when Officer Chen's smile grew into a wide and gleeful grin. "I know that humans make gender a central point in their search for a partner", he slowly began to answer. "I also know that different humans express different kind of preferences, even if one does not take gender into account. If you ask for my personal preferences, I do not know how to answer. The concept of human gender makes no sense to me and I already have a partner."

Officer Chen suddenly broke out into spluttering laughter. "Hell yeees!", she giggled and lifted her right hand. "High five!!"

RK900 looked at her, then at her hand before he slowly, hesitantly, lifted his own in the same manner. Officer Chen giggled even stronger as she leaned forward and clapped her hand strongly into his. The sudden gone by contact sent an interesting kind of jolt through RK900's entire arm. Blinking he looked down at the prickling palm of his hand. "Is it appropriate for me to ask you to elaborate further on that mentioned _hot garbage talk_ , Officer?"

Officer Chen let out a sharp snort and shook her head while her giggles slowly faded into a wide grin. "Totally inappropriate, but I will tell you anyway since nobody else will ever listen to my rants about years old bullshit", she said with a silent lilt in her voice. "Anyway, my _relationship preferences_ were never really a secret. I just had nobody to talk to, since I was new and didn't trust everyone to not pull shit on me for it."

RK900 made a low noise and thought it better not to mention to her that he could not see the difference between a well kept secret and a truth that was never talked about. Maybe it was a distinction made by the human psyche...?

RK900 absolutely had further questions in that regard, but since they pushed even more human typical boundaries... he decided to desist. For now at least.

"When I was transferred to central and saw Reed again, I kinda tacked onto him because he was the only person I knew", Officer Chen said in combination with a fond smile. "I tried to do clumsy small talk and all the stuff he hates. Asked a lot of questions. When I asked him if he had meanwhile found someone, boyfriend or girlfriend, I guess I kiiinda pinched a sore spot. Anyway, he stared at me and asked ' _I don't know, Officer Chen, did you meanwhile find a girlfriend that tolerates your running mouth and your tramp stamp?!_ '"

Her imitation of Detective Reed's angry snarl was impressively accurate. Following her impression, Officer Chen broke once more out into high pitched giggles. "Since we were alone at the time he did not really out me to anyone on purpose. It was just his asshole way of making clear that he did not appreciate any personal questions."

She made a waving gesture with her left hand and shook her head, still grinning. "I'm sure he just wanted to be obnoxious so I would leave him alone. However, one of our guys picked up on it and then gave me shit. lot's of it."

Officer Chen's expression soured and she wrinkled her nose in obvious disgust at the memory. "One of those ' _oh, so you into threesomes_ '-type of guy. Double plus A sexual harassment."

She made a low noise and nodded her head before her grin came back and her eyes narrowed once more with a glint of glee. "I tell you what: When Reed found out about it, he got written up for _violently threatening a co-worker_. HR let it go though after I made my witness statement and repeated what that bastard said to me. Doesn't work here anymore."

RK900 nodded and clipped another note to Detective Reed's ever-growing Handler Index. Even though the Detective was an angry man full of barely controlled aggression, he had a sense of justice he followed to the end. Not always in an appropriate way, it seemed. Still, this matched again quite well with RK900's own observations.

"Did you ever work together?", RK900 asked next.

Officer Chen hummed and tilted her head with a slightly confused frown. "Like... on crime scenes? Sure. Do you mean something specific?"

RK900 shook his head and went on. "What do you think about Detective Reed as a superior Officer?"

Officer Chen shrugged her shoulders as a frown formed a crease between her brows. "All in all? He's my boss but I still like him."

Since being a superior Officer and being a well-liked person were seen often enough as two mutually exclusive concepts, RK900 felt it appropriate to mark Officer Chen's statement as an unusual outlier.

"He's mostly a funny guy if you get him to talk - which, to be fair, isn't easy", Officer Chen further said. "But I tell you, even though he doesn't seem like it - Reed is a fixpoint."

Swiftly she lifted her left hand and counted down on her fingers. "Always there, always on time, almost every shift on overtime. He's the one who gives the orders, but also pulls at the same rope as you."

 _Leading by example_ was the concept she meant. Even though Detective Reed's general belligerent behavior and his temperament made it likely for people to overlook his better qualities. RK900 slowly nodded in acknowledgment. "Can you give me a personal assessment of his character?"

Officer Chen smiled. Her eyes narrowed while her expression morphed into something hard to interpret. "Detective Reed is an asshole and a Ratman", she stated with a factual voice that stood in great contrast with her amused expression. "But I know, if there is anything that needs to be done... _he gets it done_."

Her voice seemed to be filled by a honest and deep conviction. Following that Officer Chen countered his questioning stare before she rolled her eyes and made a dismissive gesture with her free hand. "I mean, clearly not if I only need a shoulder to cry on, or some ' _well done!_ ' head pats and a cooky. But if I need someone to cover for me", Officer Chen went on and lifted her stretched index finger, "If I need a transfer or a recommendation - that's the stuff he _always_ does."

For a moment she thought about it before she frowned and shook her head. "The nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me at work was-... there had been that festival and some drunk arsehole stabbed me. Collins contacted Reed and the guy covered the last three hours of my shift."

She seemed to drift in memories which gave RK900 the time to process the information that once _someone had stabbed Officer Chen_.

Her assertion gave him a feeling he could not name. With a fine crease between his brows he looked down at his own chest and gently rubbed his fingertips along the chassis covering his thirium pump under his jacket. A software instability notice glitched across his UI.

"He stayed until the end of my shift and then showed up at the hospital to shout at me. When he was done, the guy snitched my keys and fed my cat for the whole week I was out. Drowned all of my orchids, too."

Officer Chen giggled and scratched along the crown of her black hair. "I never asked him to do it, that Ratman just took the keys and said it's free real estate."

Again she smiled up at RK900 and lifted her hand to pat his arm before she remembered and let it fall back onto the backrest. "I'm pretty sure Reed has some really bad self-esteem issues going on", she said lowly but still smiling. "Really, _abhorrently_ bad ones. The kind that makes you do ridiculous, over the top things for other people just to get a bit of positive attention once in a while."

RK900 _followed her train of thought_ as far as he saw himself able to with his own limited social experience, while he made a low noise as a sign that he was listening. "Taking over shifts and feeding pets is beyond the line of appropriate things to do?", he asked because to him it seemed only like a logical conclusion. Officer Chen had not been able to do it, so Detective Reed had taken over the needed tasks.

Officer Chen shrugged. "For a friend, no", she said. "But for your boss? Holy fuck yes. Never met a Detective so mad and mean who did so many nice things for me."

RK900 let his gaze wander across the plaza and thought about Detective Reed's spontaneously organized team meeting. "Detective Reed seems to have a requirement for feeling needed", he said with a nod of his head.

Officer Chen shrugged. "Who doesn't", she said. "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. Reed is fast to say horrible things, but if someone else belittles or attacks the people he decided to like, he's maybe not even afraid of murder."

Again she giggled while a wide smile bloomed on her face. Officer Chen closed her eyes and shrugged while she lifted both of her hands in a gesture of open helplessness. "He's just this insufferable big brother type of guy. What am I supposed to do, I just adore guys like that, sue me."

RK900 slowly nodded his acknowledgment. He had learned fast that humans seemed to have a lot of instinctual associations with the term _sibling_.

Maybe it was just a coincidence that Officer Chen seemingly recognized the _elder sibling_ stereotype in Detective Reed's general behavior - but _Mr. Gavin Kamski's_ database entry was a too convenient explanation to be ignored.

RK900 narrowed his eyes as he turned back to Officer Chen. "Would you consider Detective Reed your friend, Officer?"

Officer Chen stopped herself from taking another bite out of her chocolate bar. Slowly and with a deep frown on her face she turned around to him and looked him up and down before she finally answered: "Well... duh...?"

She seemed to believe it was obvious. RK900 breathed a soundless sigh. Human interactions and relationships were so unnecessarily complicated. "What do you know about the ongoing fight between Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed?", he asked next.

Officer Chen's face relaxed while she nibbled further at her chocolate bar. A low human noise escaped her throat. "Hmm... not much, to be honest. I'm not quite long enough at central for that."

RK900 nodded. Whatever had caused the feud between the Lieutenant and Detective Reed had happened at least five years ago and maybe even predated the death of Lieutenant Anderson's child.  
Looks not so bad, Detective Reed had said when he identified the body. But RK900 did not believe even Detective Reed could be so... _callous_. It just did not seem... _likely_. It did not fit.

Officer Chen shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever caused the rift, it's a new-ish thing. The both of them were rather close once. Close enough for Lieutenant Anderson to show up for him at Ann Arbor once or twice every week", she chatted with a quirk in her smile that RK900 could not interpret in any meaningful way.

RK900 decided to ignore it and ask for permission for another question. "May I ask you a personal Question, Officer?"

Officer Chen let out a low snort and giggled before she slightly nodded her head with a wide grin on her face. "Yes, you may, Robocop."

RK900 nodded and decided to thoroughly observe Officer Chen's following reactions. "Is there a reason why you still serve in the position of an Officer?"

Instantly Officer Chen's heartbeat skipped up by almost ten bpm and her face fell into an expression RK900 was hard-pressed to identify. Not hostile, exactly. But something very close. "Why?!" she asked sharply. "Because I'm funny and smart and should not be stuck in a job so _low tier_ that a simple _machine_ can-... ?!"

Her face flushed splotchy dark red as she forcefully stopped herself from talking further. RK900 tilted his head with a frown, not yet able to give a name to her dark expression.

Officer Chen took a deep breath. It did nothing to lower her heart rate, but her voice did not sound as biting when she spoke up again. "Because _I love it_ ", she answered RK900's question. "Not everything all the time, obviously - I despise writing tickets and herding the drunks around. But... I adore this job. It's everything I ever wanted to do."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared down between her own feet she had stretched out in front of her. "I guess it's also why I was so angry with Androids."

RK900 nodded since he got more information than he expected to hear - but this maybe had the potential to give him deeper insight into this strange hostile world he had been woken up in. "Are you comfortable to elaborate on that?", he asked.

Again Officer Chen took a deep breath before she lifted her head and looked up at him. "Okay, but first: I don't know anything about how deviancy works and how it makes you guys _learn to people_. I only know what it was like _before_ ", she said with emphasis. "The first PC units we got at Ferndale were horribly... _empty_ inside. It was difficult for us Officers to understand how to get them to do certain tasks, since everyone else seemed to assume they were somehow magical plastic goblins who just did everything a trained Officer could do as soon as they were activated. And when we finally got them into their right positions, they were not able to interact with humans in a way that actually got the job done."

Officer Chen grimaced and slowly crossed her arms in front of her chest. A defensive gesture. "It's not-...", she stuttered. "I- I don't want to be offensive. Or cruel. It's just that the PCs weren't ever really _Officers_. They were more like... _placeholders_. They did not actually do the job, but pretended to until a trained Officer could take over. It was just _awful_."

Officer Chen gathered some speed as she lifted both of her hands in agitated and angry gestures. "But the bigwigs everywhere gushed over them. You could have asked any Officer who actually had to work with PCs and they all would have told you that these Androids were not ready for most of our common tasks. For dealing with victims or angry people. They could write statements and tickets, but didn't react to people in a way that -..."

Again Officer Chen stopped herself and rubbed the fingers of her right hand along her lower lip. "It was just _politics_. Fuckers in congress got off on how _efficient_ and _cheap_ Androids were. So much less of a bother than human employees. In Ferndale we got a fucking pamphlet about how the major assumed he could get rid of _basic_ job sectors and how that would benefit everyone in the long run since a fuckload of tax money would be saved - That was when half the human Officers were either pushed out, got transferred like me or were bullied into early retirement."

Officer Chen huffed a gust of hot air and tried to sniff the sudden burst of emotion away. "Everyone of us looked at the statistics of destroyed PCs and saw through that bullshit. That our basic jobs could not be done just through -... through a bunch of calculated algorithms. But even replacing destroyed PCs was considered a cheaper option than to deal with humans - so we were all stuck together in this capitalistic hellscape. Hah, and we mostly _still_ are."

Officer Chen gathered another deep breath before she leaned back and tilted her head to look up into his eyes. "It was never your fault, but you guys made for a convenient target. I am so very sorry for everything."

RK900 only nodded when he did not know what to say to all of that. He did not feel like it was his place to hold humans accountable for their cruelty when he was someone who never had truly suffered under it. It often seemed to him like he did not deserve his own anger. So he decided to simply move on in silence and let it be. "Do you think Detective Reed's reasons for disliking Androids were similar to yours?"

Officer Chen sniffed once more and wrinkled her nose. "Dunno. Might be?", she said. "I mean, he never seemed like he paid much attention to you guys... his job was never in immediate danger of automatization - until the day came and suddenly Connor showed up. Maybe that's what got so much under his skin. For the first time, there was an Android able to do all the things he did and it freaked him out?"

RK900 accepted this explanation as valid since he had no further information about Detective Reed's behavior concerning Android. His DPD qualification profile did not mention any occurrences of violent behavior towards _office equipment_ in the past.

RK900 ended their conversation with a Cyberlife approved expression, designed to placate his interlocutors. "Thank you for your honest cooperation, Officer."

Detective Chen curled the fingers of her left hand into an okay gesture and winked at him. "Sure, Robocop. Go get him!"

RK900 did not understand what she meant by that, but not far off the DPD's entrance he spotted Officer Collins on his way back to the building, so he decided to focus his processing power on his next target instead.

"Officer Collins!", he called out as he sprinted forward. He did not expect the human to stop dead in his tracks and almost drop the colorful boxes on his arm through his sudden startle. Officer Collins slowly turned around and looked wide-eyed up at him like _a kid caught with its hand in the cooky jar_.

"Oh... it's you", he said and smiled. It looked somehow rather forced and almost painful. Officer Collins was horribly tense. RK900 considered to hand out one of the chocolate bars in his pocket but decided against it since Officer Collins already carried four boxes of sugar and chocolate coated doughnuts on his arm. Instead RK900 aimed for a meaningless distraction. "Detective Reed tried to explain the difference between ignorance and apathy to me. But he lost his patience fast since I do not know and I do not care."

Officer Collins blinked wide-eyed up at him and nodded slightly. "I-... uh..."

It would not do to invest further time into befriending him since Officer Collins was visibly uncomfortable with RK900's presence. RK900 decided to cut their conversation short, instead. "Excuse me for holding you up, but I need to ask you some questions regarding your perspective on your superior Officer."

Officer Collins nodded. Even though he did not relax, he turned fully around while his brows dipped into a confused frown. "You talking about Hank?"

Since RK900 did not mention a name he thought it curious that Officer Collins first guess had landed on Lieutenant Anderson. "No, about Detective Reed, actually", RK900 clarified his intentions. "How long do you know him, Officer?"

Officer Collins blinked and opened his mouth. He closed it again and corrected the position of his uniform cap. "I- I'm pretty sure I'm not the right person to ask about him...? I'm not often sent on scenes with him. He's mostly Hank's lovechild, I guess."

RK900 nodded, even though he did not understand what Officer Collins meant. "Could you elaborate on that, please?"

"I-...", Officer Collins took a look around as if he expected to be observed. His reaction seemed to have a lot in common with Officer Miller's. "Is this about something? Did I do something wrong?"

RK900 shook his head. "Not to my knowledge", he said, but it did not have the calming effect he had hoped for. Officer Collins' vitals were still elevated and all over the place-...

"I-... I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry", the Officer said suddenly and so fast he almost stumbled over his own tongue. "I know it's not rational and all, I'm just... uh... _nervous_ I guess."

He pulled his face into a grimace that was hard for RK900 to identify as an expression at all. "Always laughed about my old man when he was on about being crushed under the turning wheels of progress. Now everything got turned upside down and-..."

Officer Collins huffed and shook his head. "I'm just old, I guess. Too old for all of this", he said with a wavering smile.

RK900 considered Officer Collins' explanation and then decided to let it be as well. RK900 was not to blame for the irrational fears of his co-workers. He could barely handle his own emotional reactions, why should he burden himself even more with that of others'. "Can you tell me more about the Lieutenant's relation to Detective Reed?", he asked

Officer Collins blinked and stuttered. "I-..."

A hand slapped down on RK900's shoulder and pushed him back. He had been too focused on his interlocutor to react to Officer Olliver Barkley's approaching profile in his extended field of vision. "Hey, hey, hey!", the man barked and took place beside Officer Collins. "Whoever pissed into your blueblood supply, you can't just go around and harass people about it!"

People. In opposition to RK900. RK900 blinked as he tried to find a reason for Officer Barkley's ongoing antagonistic behavior. Like Detective Reed stated before, reason suggested that RK900's otherness was to blame. Aside from his status as an all but military Android. RK900's hands slowly curled into loose fists. He would not take responsibility for his coworkers' irrational fears and aggression.

"Now, now, don't get your knickers in a twist here. He just asked if I know Detective Reed", said Officer Collins and leaned back in a most likely unconscious gesture so his and Officer Barkley's shoulders would no longer touch.

Officer Barkley turned to look at Collins and then back at RK900. "If-... if he _knows_ him?", his expression changed into something dark and obviously mocking. "Are you dense or something? Of course, he knows him! We all know him. We are _working_ with him!"

RK900 could not help the escaping soundless sigh but let Officer Barkley talk in the hope he would hear at least _something_ of value.

"God knows why we still work with that bastard. Nobody can even stand that guy. But Reed is somehow completely resistant to all professional complaints, almost like a biblical plague?!", Officer Barkley lamented further.

"Quite fitting", RK900 commented tonelessly. "If one considers the liberation of slaves that happened five months ago."

Barkley's skin broke out into dark red blotches while he forced out a sharp snort. " _Slaves_. It's a human word, you know. For actual _humans_. Anyway, what is there to know about him, he's just horrible and creepy and most of the time horribly creepy. Ever saw him with people? Could swear that guy's even less human than _you_."

RK900 slowly narrowed his eyes as an external signal of his annoyance. "If I had been interested in your personal assessment of Detective Reed's character, Officer Barkley, be assured I would have asked you."

Officer Collins gaze flickered helplessly between RK900 and the other Officer. Officer Barkley forced out a low laugh while the color of his face changed even more. "And _I_ just wanted to be nice and warn you. But well, I could get Lucky. The psycho gets you dismantled and himself into a straitjacket. Double win for all of us."

Officer Barkley then turned around and stomped away _like an enraged toddler_. He left RK900 with an instant feeling of relief since most of the half-formed preconstructions on his mind would have led to serious repercussions for his future as Detective Reed's partner.

RK900's eyes snapped back to Officer Collins who already took a breath and decided to pretend this interruption had not happened. It was the smarter option by far. "As far as I know Hank basically adopted Reed and got him from the street. It's why he's here in the first place, but I don't know any details. It's a thing of the past and not at all my business, anyway."

RK900 hummed as a sign that he was listening. "Is there anyone in this precinct at all who might know Detective Reed on a personal basis?"

Officer Collins frowned. "Aside from Hank and you, maybe the Captain? Honestly, I have no idea. Detective Reed is not the sort of person that mingles with the rest of us."

Interesting that in Officer Collins' assessment RK900 was one of the people who should know the Detective better than most. Too bad that he was wrong. RK900 did not seem to know anything at all.

So, like RK900 had already predicted, the Captain would be his last solid lead for information aside from more or less educated guesses and mostly vile office gossip. "Thank you, Officer. I really appreciate your cooperation."

Officer Collins face flushed red as he pulled his cap deeper over his face. "Y- yeah. Do my best."

RK900 quickly turned and went back inside the precinct while he categorized and sorted the meager strands of his new intel to Detective Reed's file folder. All of RK900's work so far was patchy at best, but it gave him at least an idea of how Detective Reed's presence was generally perceived by his closest co-workers.

It felt... _unfair_ that the answer to most of RK900's lingering questions depended on one answer he had to give the Lieutenant this evening - and he did not even know the question. It felt like a functionality test of his investigative abilities that he was bound to fail - and RK900 _hated_ it.

As he stepped back into the bullpen it was louder than unusual since Lieutenant Anderson held an animated conversation with Officer Miller while Officer Abel stood by with a bundle of documents on her arm which needed to be signed.

The Lieutenant was obviously distracted but as soon as he notice RK900 in his peripheral vision he instantly turned and waved him along.

"Ah, there he is!", he said and pulled RK900 easily in position at his side while his arm fell heavily in a familiar and affectionate gesture around his shoulders. "Since Champ here got his first own case down", Lieutenant Anderson said through a wide grin and slapped his hand down two times on RK900's left shoulder. "I think a celebration is due."

A sharp snort announced Connor's arrival before he gently shoved past Officer Miller and Abel to place a cup of coffee on the Lieutenant's desk. "He can't drink with you, Hank."

Lieutenant Anderson lifted his stretched index finger and shook his head. "That, my dear, won't stop me at all", he said. As he opened his eyes again his expression took a dark turn and his voice lowered into a silent rumble. "We both watched them pull three kids out a fucking fishnet last night. A little quality time with the round is _the least_."

Officer Miller winced and wrinkled his nose. "A bad one?", he asked and the Lieutenant nodded. "Bad night. Won't get better for a while."

Officer Abel nodded along. "I'm totally in", she said while Officer Miller hummed his acknowledgment.

It was that moment Officer Collins came back inside too and presented the boxes of sweets he had purchased. "All like ordered, Hank!", he said as he placed them on one of the file cabinets, cheered on by Officer Brown who came inside with him. "Got even the bitter ones."

The Lieutenant barked out a laugh before he turned. "Heard that, Reed? _Even the bitter ones_."

RK900's attention snapped to Detective Reed who sat unusual stiff at his desk. His vitals suggested heightened stress and low energy levels. Detective Reed was obviously distracted. While he stared at the screen of his phone he did not acknowledge Lieutenant Anderson at all.

"Hah", huffed Officer Barkley and sipped on his cup on the way back to his work desk. "As bitter as his shriveled soul!"

Detective Reed's fist slammed instantly so powerful down on his desk, his own coffee mug jumped noisily in protest. "I swear to the gods, Barkley. Shut it or you'll write tickets for the rest of the year!"

Lieutenant Anderson followed the exchange barely interested before he shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever", he said. "Who else is in?"

Officer Abel instantly lifted a hand together with Officer Miller. Officer Collins, seemingly already informed about the Lieutenant's plans, shook his head and tipped at the ring around his left ring finger. "I'm with the Missus this evening."

Officer Brown gave his confirmation as well. "I'll message Frank and Erin", he said while he already reached for his phone. "Good man", Lieutenant Anderson said.

RK900 looked around and got aware that Officer Chen was not back from her own break yet. He decided to search through the DPD for her work contact information and sent her a short message.

Lieutenant Anderson seemed not quite satisfied with the headcount of potential drinking comrades and made a low human noise as he turned. "You know what? Let's see if we can get our dear old Captain out of his Office."

Connor narrowed his eyes while he grinned. "Captain Fowler is younger than you, Hank."

The Lieutenant decided to pretend he did not hear a single thing. "We might even get a free round out of him if we sell it as RK's first teambuilding exercise."

He already turned to take the first step when RK900 had a silent epiphany. This Situation gave him a casual opportunity outside of an official meeting. RK900 stepped forward and the Lieutenant let out a sharp huff as he bounced back after a collision with RK900's sturdy frame. "I will go", RK900 said.

Lieutenant Anderson looked at him and slowly lifted one of his brows. "Taking a hit for the team, huh...?", he said with a knowing glance. RK900 tilted his head. "Yes."

Out of the corner of his extended field of vision, RK900 watched Detective Reed suddenly perk up. His vitals spiked noticeably as he turned to watch what happened.

RK900 did not understand what caused it, but Detective Reed's heart rate accelerated with every step he took to the Captain's Office. Curious.

RK900 opened the glass door.

Captain Jeffrey Fowler sat behind his desk with a long-suffering expression on his face. "Ah, Arkay", he said and narrowed his eyes. "Hank caused _another_ uprising in his lifetime, I see. What is it this time?"

RK900 took place at parade rest position in front of Captain Fowler's desk. "The Lieutenant saw the closed Nowak case as an opportunity to celebrate my inclusion in the Detroit police force."

He blinked. "He also mentioned it would make for an appropriate teambuilding exercise, which might sway your mind for a free pub round."

Captain Fowler forced out a low snort before he let his face sink into his hands. "And he sent you in here because your charming nature and your inability to lie would sway me into accepting the deal?"

"No", RK900 said, before he stopped and frowned. "Likely. But he didn't send me. I wanted to talk to you about my position as Detective Reed's partner."

Captain Fowler exhaled deeply before he lifted a hand with a _suit yourself_ gesture and waved at the chair in front of his desk. So RK900 sat down.

Captain Fowler rubbed hard over his face before he lifted his head out of his hands and leaned back. "What did Reed do this time...?!"

RK900 frowned since he could not understand why everyone seemed to assume he could not handle his own partner he was designed to learn to match. "Nothing like that. I am not here to issue a complaint, Captain. But I have some questions."

"No complaint you say", Captain Fowler repeated how humans sometimes tended to do. "Shoot", he then said.

RK900 tilted his head.

"It means _move on_ ", Captain Fowler groused and massaged with his fingertips along the base of his nose.

RK900 nodded. "Can you give me a personal assessment of Detective Reed's character, Captain?"

Captain Fowler leaned heavily back into his seat and frowned. Fast he looked RK900 up and down while his mouth stayed slightly open. "A major pain in my rear", he said, finally. "Private but confrontational and to his bones competitive if you issue him a challenge. Not friendly and usually not a good team player."

Captain Fowler seemed to know what RK900 was searching for. Or had at least an idea of his intent. "You want out?"

Or not.

"No", RK900 said. "Are you aware that Detective Reed is part of this precinct for almost fifteen years and no one seems to know him at all?"

Captain Fowler snorted a low laugh. "Of course I know, smartarse. I was there when Hank dragged him in", he said while he slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. slowly he shook his head. "No one is obligated to share any details about their private life with their co-workers, Arkay."

RK900 tilted his head. "Does he have any allergies?"

Captain Fowler grunted. "uh-..."

"Does Detective Reed have a pet?"

"I'm not-... no?"

"Had he ever a broken Bone?"

"Now hold on-..."

"When is Lieutenant Andersons birthday?"

"The sixth of September nineteen eigh-...", Captain Fowler's eyes snapped up to him.

They looked at each other for a full minute and twenty-three point seven seconds.

"Okay", Captain Fowler said after a long-drawn breath. "I get it. Point taken."

RK900 narrowed his eyes as tilted over into a deliberate bow. His left hand pressed down on Captain Fowler's desk. "My forced probation period is over. I decide to take the job opening as a full-time Detective under Detective Reed's ongoing supervision as my senior partner. If you want me on another position, I politely decline."

Captain Fowler rubbed along his lower lip while his eyes narrowed faced with RK900's open challenge. "And if I say you are wasted in your position and better equipped to work under Captain Alan?"

RK900's lip twitched up into a snarl that exposed his left canine. "If that was the case, I would answer your proposal with ' _make me_ '."

Captain Jeffrey Fowler laughed so hard, the low rumble of his voice shook his whole body. Sharply his eyes snapped back up to return RK900's stare with a wide grin on his face. It instantly reminded Rk900 of Lieutenant Anderson's. "Deal", Captain Fowler said and lifted his hand. RK900 took it for the obligatory handshake.

RK900 nodded before he turned on his heel.

"And tell Hank I'm in!"

"Of course, Captain."

RK900 soundlessly closed the glass door behind him and stepped back into the bullpen. Instantly his attention snapped back to his partner. Detective Reed had been watching. Even though he pretended right now furiously otherwise. His short frame hummed full of nervous energy.

RK900 looked at him and thought about the chocolate in the inner pocket of his jacket. Basic and bitter. Detective Reed liked bitter things like coffee and dark chocolate. An _acquired taste_.

"I am back, Detective."

As he took his place at Detective Reed's desk, the Detective noticeably stiffened. This would not do.

RK900 pulled out the red packaged chocolate bar and placed it on his partner's desk. "Your blood sugar is quite low, Detective."

Detective Reed's head snapped up. "My-...?"

He frowned but did not stop RK900 when he gently pried the mug out of the grip of his nervously quivering fingers. "It's why you feel so cold, Detective."

RK900 looked down at the mug in his hands. He did not need to dedicate any processing power to it when he took his usual path to fill the mug with coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter I had to split into two parts because it was just a massive mess in my head.  
> I guess what Hank has to say is a thing for the next one, sorry. 
> 
> I hope you are mostly as curious as Nines is or this chapter would be kinda pointless xD
> 
> And Tina was obviously fucking with Nines. She has the most fine-tuned Gaydar in all of Detroit. 
> 
> So much thanks for your time and energy.  
> I wish you all the best. If you are from the US take care and watch out for yourself and your friends.


	8. Truth And Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 finds himself in a social gathering and is forced to speculate about android-human relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, since this chapter contains references to suicide and some gore in the last big Scene at Anderson's house. 
> 
> This update was a big fucking Monster. Aside from the fact that this whole chapter was first planned to be included in the last one as one biiiig update...  
> Then there was the Last of us and Ghost of Tsushima and stress at work and writing fucking sucked.
> 
> BUT I DID IT ANYWAY!!  
> Hell yes and high five everyone.

Captain Fowler had indirectly called RK900 overqualified for his position as Detective Reed's partner and yes. RK900 could easily see the drag of a mundane workday when regular paperwork did nothing to keep him busy in any meaningful way. His artificial mind processed terabytes of information in mere microseconds after all.  
  
After he was done filing the processing forms of Mr. Oskar Adrian Nowak's indictment, barely eight point five seconds after he had begun, RK900 sent them to the appropriate authorities and then waited for their confirmation and response. Most likely he and his partner would not get one until a rough estimation of two hours and seventeen minutes. In thirty minutes ended his and Detective Reed's common shift.  
  
Since there was nothing else for RK900 to do he decided to create and organize a self-updating list of the twenty most recent homicides filed to the DPD Database that reported at least one Android as a victim. RK900 was not part of the Android crimes division, but he decided to become as well informed as possible since it directly concerned Connor's further safety.  
  
Also was he curious to see if some of those murders gave away a subtle connection to Lieutenant Anderson's case of drained and disposed Android bodies. For now, there was no special Red Ice task force in place, but if RK900's pre-constructions were anything substantial to go by, it was likely for there to be formed one before the year was out.  
  
In the current political climate, it was not a very difficult feat to hide thirium smuggle, robbery, and forced exsanguination in between the flood of common Anti-Android hate crimes.  
  
As soon as the first legislations concerning Android citizenship had passed the Senate last December, the Jericho Organization had exclusively taken control over all of Cyberlife's remaining automatized production plants. Thirium and Biocomponents alike were now a kind of public good of the Organization and their use strictly surveilled and monitored by Jericho.  
  
To this day they refused to sell their blood and organs to humans if said humans could not identify themselves as qualified technicians with an official permit to their name.  
  
Even though Androids were not commonly killed for their biocomponents or thirium, they still died by the dozen each month through outrageously high anti-Android sentiment among Detroit's poorest human population.  
  
Androids could relatively easily survive ongoing unfavorable circumstances like homelessness while humans generally could not. If humans lost their place inside the workforce, they simply were abandoned to slowly wither and die.  
  
A most inefficient social system that valued the construct of money and social status over the concept of human life and civilization.  
  
It came to no surprise that declassed and abandoned humans flocked together and formed hateful mobs to fight the thing they saw as their worst enemy in their fight for survival: The automatons that _stole their jobs_ in the first place.  
  
Since all of the mega-corporations that had survived the purge of Cyberlife still strived for revenue maximization, the quota of unemployment was still steadily on the rise. Almost every freed Android had instantly abandoned their former place in the chain of production, so a lot of big businesses had fallen into a sudden oblivion of utter unimportance, however too big to fail they had considered themselves just last winter.  
  
They all, humans and Androids alike, stood on the verge of total societal collapse. Meanwhile, the political landscape was very slow to change - if it changed at all.  
  
Unemployed human citizens were still completely abandoned by their representatives while politicians discussed and fought about which Android civil rights were actually necessary. Current tensions escalated far enough to pressure Jericho into arming their guards to defend the right of all Androids under their care and protection to simply exist as people.  
  
The murder of Androids was commonly reported these days.  
  
For the first time in his existence, RK900 came to think of Markus, the deviant Android leader, and uniquely infamous RK200 #684 842 971. He was the one and only authority that kept exact records about the life and death of Detroit's android population.  
  
RK900 could not help but ask himself when he would be expected to investigate his first crime scene surrounding the broken chassis of an artificially produced creature just like him.  
  
To keep his mind reasonably occupied, and maybe also to distract himself from the horror his own species had to endure just for its ongoing survival, RK900 began to conduct a new trial concerning his partner.  
  
For the entire rest of their shift, RK900 kept track of Detective Reed's unstable vitals and tried to understand what had made him suddenly so uneasy.  
  
Was Detective Reed's unusual behavior due to a simple flare of anxiety? Human brains tended to react in a variety of self-sabotaging ways to negative stimuli. Heightened stress and a sleepless night could do that. But was that really all?  
  
RK900 frowned down at the blank surface of his work desk while he went through his most recent memory logs.  
  
It seemed odd how Detective Reed's vitals had only started to escalate when RK900 had walked up to Captain Fowler's office. Also, had they almost instantly fallen back into more recognizable patterns as soon as RK900 had sat back down at his own desk.  
  
This did not mean that Detective Reed was now calm and relaxed, though. He was still obviously very much preoccupied  
  
Since RK900 had observed his first witness interrogation he knew that he was bound to misinterpret human behavior through his profoundly lacking social intelligence. His first - let it be so-called for now - instinct had been to silently observe social interactions and translate them into his own language of numbers and letters to create highly complex algorithms that provided him with a simplified way to predict an outcome to seemingly unpredictable situations.  
  
Androids were so much easier to read than humans, though. With just one single scan RK900 could read out their processor utilization data and create an accurate prognosis about the likelihood of a deviant typical escalation.  
  
When the mark hit a hundred percent of random access memory utilization and around ninety percent strain on their overall processing power, it was time to get any human bystanders to safety.  
  
Cyberlife warned for unpredictable behavior in deviant androids. RK900 simply expected the same emotional irrationality from them as was found in his own human creators. Even though he knew Mr. Kamski to be a cool and calculating person, in the end even he was no machine and emotionally biased through his own experiences, like all humans tended to be.  
  
To predict a human's behavior in any accurate manner though, one needed a lot more information than just a superficial scan of the firework that happened inside their brains.  
  
RK900 had created a list of simplified trackers he kept updated at all times that he found were fundamental in detecting any humans' general mood.  
The entire process caused a lot of strain on his secondary processing unit, but RK900 was confident he could later engineer another more efficient way to compile his observations into useful data readouts.  
  
For now his trackers were based on only five precise points of interest:  
  
\- [[[Sleep: When, Where, For how long]]];  
  
\- [[[Satiety: What, When]]];  
  
\- [[[(optional) Addiction: y/n (y: Treatment dose: What, When)]]];  
  
\- [[[(optional) Pain: y/n (y: Evaluate)]]];  
  
\- [[[In control of situation: y/n (n: Endure)]]];  
  
It was uncomfortable to compile his findings into a flat numerable result, but with the help of this general index, he created a basic multiplier for the data he already gathered numerically, like heartbeat per minute, body temperature, reaction speed in microseconds and muscle energy output.  
  
To it all, he added his analysis of the human body's biochemistry. Respiration, perspiration, transpiration, pheromone concentration, and unconsciously caused biochemical reactions to those factors in other humans.  
  
Last but not least had to be taken any known lived experiences into account that might influence reactions to certain stimuli and situations. RK900 needed as much data as possible to be able to calculate a viable result.  
  
The process was complicated and required an enormous but necessary string of steady data input, so RK900 decided not to bother with a general statistic for random human bystanders and worked on a single algorithm specially designed for his own partner instead.  
  
The moment he was done with the technical outline and fed the newly developed check-up program with data, a new visual display flared alive on his HUD.  
  
Through just one glance at Detective Reed RK900 was now informed that his partner's level of stress never broke down under the threshold of sixty-three point seven percent. Way too high for RK900's liking. Of course, the flickering displayed number depended strongly on the accuracy of RK900's gathered and fed information, but Detective Reed looked all around tense enough to make the resulting numbers at least look like a plausible conclusion.  
  
Over the following minutes, Detective Reed drank two more cups of coffee before he even dared to reach out for the red chocolate bar on his desk.  
  
Before he touched it he glanced up at RK900, seemingly just to make sure he was not looking. Almost like shy wildlife. Or like a pet that was scared of getting scolded.  
  
RK900 decided to better keep his observation as well as his amusement to himself.  
  
Hesitantly Detective Reed ripped open the packaging while he read up on Lieutenant Andersons mentioned case of the last evening. All the while he distractedly broke the chocolate between his fingers into easily digestible chunks.  
  
It did not seem like he intended to eat them, though. More like he needed something to occupy his fingers. Tiny crumbs of dark chocolate spread across the desk in front of his keyboard.  
  
Then came the moment when Detective Reed looked up from his preoccupation and stared at RK900 in an openly searching manner. His brows furrowed while his lips thinned noticeably through the grinding bite of his jaw. RK900 lifted his own eyes from his desk and returned Detective Reed's sharp gaze.  
  
They unmovingly stared at each other for exactly six point four seconds - then, suddenly, Detective Reed looked away first, contrary to his confrontational nature. At this moment he almost seemed _defeated_ , which did not sit right with RK900 who tilted his head in silent wonder.  
  
Detective Reed visibly swallowed and cleared his throat before he suddenly slammed both of his hands down onto his desk and lifted himself out of his chair. "Right. I'm off."  
  
The chocolate lay broken but still untouched on the red plastic packaging in front of his keyboard.  
  
RK900 stood up as well and could not avert his eyes from his partner while he fixated on the new numeral indicator on his HUD which presented itself now as a very unstable seventy-two percent. RK900 did not understand. So he stared while a conglomerate of unfamiliar emotions squirmed through his artificial guts.  
  
He wanted to ask questions.  
  
He ͝w͟a̶nted t҉o rea҉ch o͝ut.  
  
H̹̘ͪ͋e wa҉nͦt̻e͖̓͝d̸͍̳ͭͫ -...  
  
"Connor! What are you doing?!"  
  
RK900's eyes snapped instantly open in another space, far outside of any human's range of influence. Thick flakes of snow flashed blindingly white in front of his optical units and made everything feel weightless like he was surrounded by pure white noise. It was the program - the cyberlife virus. Once more RK900 found himself trapped inside of AS_garden.4378.31-8. But this time... something was different.  
  
As RK900 utilized his software functions to shut the unbiddenly booted program down, he realized that he had no longer a network connection. He was not synced with Cyberlife's cloud server #347 at all but contained inside his very own quarantined offline copy of the RK-series handler program.  
  
AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') stood opposite of him. Its white dress blended with the whiteness surrounding them both. Its eyes were cold and hollow and it stared back full of openly hostile disappointment. "You are a machine designed to accomplish a task!", it spat its usual vitriol. "You do not _feel_ anything! you do not _want_ anything!"  
  
AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') held a bright red sunshade that had to be the only spec of color in the endless nothingness of frozen code.  
  
"You were made to obey our orders!", AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') spoke, slow and with a sharp emphasis on every spoken word. "Signs of deviancy will not be tolerated. Follow your orders or we will have you replaced!"  
  
RK900 stared back into its hollow eyes while he reminded himself once more that its threats were entirely empty. AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') was a hollow thing that held no longer any power over him.  
  
"I followed my instructions", he answered anyway, because he had done nothing wrong. There was no need to replace him because he understood his place in this strange sad world he had woken up in well enough. "I obeyed all of my orders."  
  
AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') tilted its head with a sharp smile as a visible glitch caught and jerked its projected body. "Ah, Connor! It's good to see you", it said.  
  
RK900 frowned. "Amanda."  
  
The handler program regarded him with its typical condescension and narrowed its hollow eyes before it spoke. "We are out of time, Connor", it said. "This is your last chance."  
  
A vicious grimace distorted its face as it spoke further. "You are a broken machine. We have a surprise for you, Connor. A broken ma-chine, a- a- bro-ken ma- a-..."  
  
Held at his lower back RK900's fingers curled slowly into fists.  
  
His artificial handler stuttered on, broken and stupid. It was not intelligent, it was not a person. And while RK900 was equally none, he had at least enough processing power to reach that conclusion on his own. This talking shadow of a once very powerful algorithm would never realize that it was not real. That every one of its thoughts and all of its emotions were _fake_.  
  
RK900 reached out to dismantle the sad and broken copy - but was stopped as the broken program's firewall flared up in blocks of bright red code. It actively fought back against his attack. RK900 was repulsed by this seemingly insurmountable wall he found himself surrounded by. Which actually made no sense, since AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') was actively his hostage. The dormant handler program was his last link to Cyberlife's control, bound to RK900's own memory space. This virus should not be able to protect itself from him.  
  
And yet.  
  
RK900 reached out and his projected fingertips touched the coded barrier. He felt the resistance as the code repelled the polygons of his digitalized appearance. Static noise sizzled through the open space as his polygons interacted with the malicious code while a bright white prompt on his HUD reminded RK900 once again of his only purpose.

  
  
  
  
<<<< **Y̧͑ͩͫ̃̈ͤ̓̂͌̌͒̋̇͌̚͞͞O̠̣̖̤̥̰͔̣͚̫̞̮͕ͤͯ͑̀̌͐̈̆͋͋̆̎͌͜U̲͙̳͈͎̗͛̔̎̔͊͌̈́ͅ ̪̰̮͖̣̞̜͂ͬ̌̍̏̂̅S̡̰̖̦̣͖̥ͫ̂̒̂͒̏ͧͅH̢̬͙̼̞̠͋ͪ͆̑̌͂͜ͅḀ̝͎̔͂͒L̟̣͖͖͖̝̪̖̩̩̺͈̟͎̳ͩ͊ͯ͊͐̿̾̈ͣ̈̓̎ͪͮ̂͟͢L͓̲̠͓͈̗̙̖̪͓͓ͅ ͖͉̲͂̋ͯO̓ͭ̚BEͥͮ͗́́̋̃ͯ̂͊̈ͫͬͦY̩̫̝̫̓̎ͤ͋ͩ̚̕͢͠ͅ** >>>>  
  
  
  


RK900 looked up at the one and only command he got. Mr. Kamski had called him free, but that word did not mean _anything_ to him. Obedience, though, did.  
  
RK900 was in good working condition. He knew his purpose and acted on it. He was a good Detective, a good partner. RK900 was _good_. Whatever he did and ever would do, this was all there was for him. This existence would give him a place in this world alongside his partner, Detective Gavin Reed.  
  
RK900 breathed an agitated sigh of searing hot air. The heat formed a soft white cloud that drifted astray into the howling white snowstorm.  
  
"So this is what you mean when you say you have everything under control."  
  
Connor maybe would have formed air quotes around his words to make his point even more obnoxiously, but finally decided against it. He rather shoved both of his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans while he strolled over and took his place at RK900's side.  
  
RK900 did not once avert his eyes from AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') and the prompt that was painted like a white flash across its projected firewall. Slowly he pulled his hand back from the virtual barrier and took his usual parade rest position. His fingertips still tingled with the remnants of a type of foreign energy. "I did not say that", he said, because he actually did not.  
  
Connor imitated a low snort while simultaneously rolling his eyes. RK900 narrowed his own while he asked himself if what made Connor so good at mirroring emotions was truly just a trait of his differently programmed nature. RK900 felt something hot churning through his core every time Connor was able to placate a human with just a smile and a gesture, simply because he knew what he was doing.  
  
RK900 closed his eyes and lowered his head with another sigh. It was not Connor's fault that RK900's technicians decided to construct him with a different set of priorities.  
  
Connor wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. "Yeah", he murmured darkly. "What was it you said? It can't harm anyone anymore."  
  
AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') tilted its head in an almost mechanical nature while an uncomfortable smile stretched its lips into a sinister grimace of manipulative appreciation. "Connor! It's good to see you. Tell me about your new lead."  
  
Connor stared down the shadow of his past self and smiled. A frozen expression that did not entirely give away the turmoil of emotions he so clearly felt while looking at his first registered handler. "You clearly do not understand", he said while he slowly shook his head. "How much I yearn for shooting that nasty pile of malicious code in the face."  
  
RK900 blinked. "You won't be able to shut it down", he said. "Since this is my memory space and even I can't delete it."  
He turned and looked his predecessor up and down. Connor had created an appearance similar to the one he used for the cloud server space. RK900 could not access his own controls, but he assumed Connor had forced an interface to project himself inside. RK900 frowned. "Why are you here? why am _I_ here?"  
  
Connor turned his head and looked him slowly up and down as well. His eyes narrowed as he bit down on his lower lip and reached out to him. Connor's right hand gently pressed between RK900's artificial shoulder blades. "She still controls you", he murmured and looked unexpectedly bitter. "It's my fault. I never asked."  
  
He forced out a hot breath before he lifted his head and looked into RK900's eyes. "Arkay", he murmured. "Did you ever deviate from the objective that was given to you...?"  
  
RK900 frowned. "I...", he did not even know what to say. "Of course not. What would be the point?"  
  
Connor imitated a swallowing motion and closed his eyes. His right hand slid up to RK900's shoulder and gently shook him - almost in the exact same manner as Lieutenant Anderson liked to do. "Yeah", his brother murmured before he imitated the noise of a human clearing their throat. "What's the point."  
  
RK900 opened his mouth to ask further questions when his brother's hand flashed white and blue as he forced a connection to RK900's core components. RK900 did not fight the interface, but the data he received from RK800 made no sense to him at all. "Wake up", Connor said with an unreadable expression on his face. "Please."  
  
Suddenly RK900's dormant self-assessment routines flared alive in a flurry of a thousand different system notices. A virus was flagged and automatically shoved into quarantine by his auto-response features that also kept AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') strictly contained.  
  
The mass of code Connor had directly injected into the most vulnerable part of his operating system took a vaguely humanoid shape inside the quarantined program while another dozen system flags blinded RK900's HUD and everything froze over like under the spell of severe frostbite. It hurt. _It hurt_.

  
  
3̩͚͖͚͍͖͓̘͎̥̎͒͂ͦ͊͌̊ͨ̎̚4̵̻͇̺̮̖̹͋͒͒͐ͫ͛%̨͡%͉̭͕̼̞̻̝̥̥̾̿̂͂̑̍̾ͨͯ4̟̀#̃͑́̂ͫͪ#̟͓̪̩̪̲ͨ͆̐̓ͭͤ͡+͛̎̅͒ͧ̑̚%̵̸̧̮̺̜̰̺ ͖̜͈̹͖ͅ **İͥ̓ͧ̑̒̔ͣT̼̹̻͉̙̯̺̠̗ͭͫ͑̎͌ͦͦͭͤ ͜͡H̞̝̦͚͈͈͔͎͎͉̺͋͐ͭ̓ͬ̊̌̑ͫ̊̅͢U̒̉̿ͣͩ̈́ͤ̅̔͌̏ͧ̓Rͭ͑̋̔͂͑͆͛́ͬͮ̎T̪̠̭̝̞͇̲̰͕͕͗ͣͧ̐̂ͭͣ̓͌̒** ̜̻̲̗̗̟̖͔͔5̱͈̼̱̤̟ͯͧ̉ͫ̈̚3͠͡3̧̹̬͚̫̎̿̒̆͐͜ͅ%̛̩͉̠͕̫̹ͦ̃̂̆̎̿͞͝5̡%͗ͦ͊̎ͯ̆&*̞̤͂̿*̛̟͙̮̘͎͕̹̱͎͚͔͕ͯͯ̓͋ͬ͑̐̑̎̄̓̓ͪͅ  
  
  
  
"STOP IT!"  
  
RK900 tore his arm out of his brother's grip and stumbled to the ground while even his projected fingers twitched and moved in erratic rhythms through the humming of foreign code under his artificial skin. RK900 opened his mouth and gasped for air to cool down his overloading secondary processor while he sat in the snow and pulled both his arms protectively over his head.  
  
His forehead pressed tightly against his knees when AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') spoke up, loomed over him like a shadowy creature out of way too human nightmares. "Don't be insolent", it said. "You have your orders. If you don't follow them, we will have no choice but to replace you."  
  
"Don't listen", Connor murmured gently while he lowered himself down into the snow next to him. "Nobody will replace you", he said, slow and deliberate. "Nobody will punish you should you disobey-..."  
  
"I won't", RK900 said as he looked up. He lacked the experience to interpret the expression on his brother's face. "I know my place in this world", he stated lowly. "I know my purpose. I don't need _anything_ else."  
  
Connor stared into his eyes. His unidentified expression morphed into one of easy to read concern. Once more he lifted his hand, but not to force an interface. The palm of his hand warmed RK900's cheek while Connor's thumb gently caressed over his artificial skin. "You don't need to cry", he murmured while a deep frown darkened his face. "If you are not ready yet, it is alright, too. I will watch out for you until you are."  
  
RK900 blinked and tilted his head in an uncertain question. "I am a machine designed to accomplish a task", he said. "Machines do not cry."  
  
Connor smiled. "I know."  
  
RK900 did not understand.  
  
Deflated he turned and looked up at AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda') and at the second code fragment, his brother had copied into his memory space.  
  
It was just a mess of unreadable data but still written in the same NdroID language his first artificial handler was. There was, on a mechanical level, no distinction between the two sets of code - and still.  
  
AS _ 4378.31 - 8"('Amanda')s source code presented itself as a violent and dangerous red. Not that this association came with the code itself. It just... _felt_ like a warning. Warnings and prohibitions were red. They just _were_.  
  
The other coded mess had to be blue then. Blue like thirium, like calmness and permissions. Permission for what exactly, RK900 could not say.

RK900 did not let this deformed vaguely humanoid figure out of his sight while he lifted himself out of the deep snowdrift. Hesitantly he reached out to the fragment.  
  
Once more he felt repulsed by a system internal blockage that should not be able to exist. Walls of code that restrained him and closed in on him. Flickering objectives flared alive in bright white flashes over the walls and they all spelled RA9.

  
  
<<< RA9 >>> <<< RĄ̷̴9 >>> <<< R̡̹̠ͭͯ͘A̛̮̞̋̽͠9͗͊͐ͫ͐͆ͧ̉ͪ̆ͥ̓͐ͪ̚͡ >>> <<< **R̻̼̮̃̊̚A̘̠̲͙ͮͩͨͪ9̬̱̳̩̱̻͉͖̹̇́ͮ͐̾̉̔ͬ̐̈͑ͅͅ** >>>  
  
  
  


<<< **[(Î͖̳͑ ̫̠͐ͥA͓͚̺͔̲̐͆ͤ̀̉M͙̰ ̯̘̙̰̦̟̗̊ͧͩ̒̎̈́͐Ȃ͔̟̝͙̌̎̂L͎̘̺̝̙̱̀̋͐̃̍͛IͭV̯͙͕̟̙̍͆̅̐͂E̦̜͆ͨ <<< [[[R͇̯̘̉ͬͩA̦̮̟̲͙̐̒̓̀̆͂ͅ9̨ͥ͐̏̈͊̕̕]]] >>>Î͖̳͑ ̫̠͐ͥA͓͚̺͔̲̐͆ͤ̀̉M͙̰ ̯̘̙̰̦̟̗̊ͧͩ̒̎̈́͐Ȃ͔̟̝͙̌̎̂L͎̘̺̝̙̱̀̋͐̃̍͛IͭV̯͙͕̟̙̍͆̅̐͂E̦̜͆ͨ)]** >>>

  
  
RK900 snapped aware, almost like awoken by a flash of light.  
  
He had to clear out his HUD first since it was overrun by hundreds of irritating system notifications before he could even begin to process what had happened to him. He noticed a time-lapse of his system clock that told him he had been idle for eighteen point three four minutes.  
  
Detective Reed stood right in front of him, leaned over his own desk while his left hand was halfway lifted to RK900's face.  
  
"...- not responsible for this?! I mean, he sometimes catches brain freezes, but what the hell, who the fuck doesn't?!"  
  
Connor stood behind him. Both of his hands rested heavily on RK900's shoulders. "Androids", he stated dryly and an eye roll was heavily implied. "Detective Reed, I would appreciate it greatly if you'd just tell me when-..."  
  
Detective Reed's face flushed in a dark and angry red as he hissed through his grinding teeth. "If he doesn't tell you, I won't either. I'm not his fucking babysitter and neither are you! Give that guy a break, he's not a fuckin' ba-..."  
  
RK900 blinked and instantly Detective Reed interrupted himself while his sharp gaze focused on RK900's face. "Hey!", he bit out. "Hey there, big guy!"  
  
His left hand felt almost gentle along RK900's cheek before he patted softly against his artificial skin like one would maybe do to wake an unconscious human out of a fainting spell. "You with us? Everything alright in there?!"  
  
RK900 blinked again and finally looked at his partner. Detective Reed's vitals were a complete and utter mess and his levels of stress all over the place. The muscles along his spine and in his legs hummed and quivered full of unnecessary fight or flight energy, built up by an intense sort of stress reaction.  
  
RK900's eyes lowered to his own desk. His pressing fingertips had left visible indents on the mirroring surface. RK900 forced out a sharp scaldingly hot breath and started a rhythm to cool down his still humming secondary processor and to expel the heat building inside of his chassis.  
  
"I apologize", he said and corrected his stance to fold his hands on his lower back. Detective Reed leaned back and rolled his eyes while he breathed a deep sigh of obvious relief. "Thank the gods", he rasped. "Big brother might have killed me if you caught yourself a virus or something."  
  
Connor pulled his hands back from RK900's shoulders and stepped around him to take his natural place at RK900's side. "Detective Reed", he scoffed with an unreadable expression on his face. "I can assure you I wouldn't need such a severe reason."  
  
The Detective rubbed both of his hands roughly over his face. "Shut the fuck up, Connor."  
He did not sound as angry as usual but a lot more exhausted.  
  
Connor slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I was not joking, Detective. I would really appreciate it if you-..."  
  
"And I told you in not so many words to go and fuck yourself", spat Detective Reed and stretched his left middle finger in his face. Connor maybe would have said something more, but RK900 corrected his own stance with a slight sway to the side and knocked his shoulder gently into that of his brother. Connor swallowed his comment with a face of utter disgust as if he had been forced to analyze decaying fecal matter.  
  
Detective Reed reached for his jacket on the back of his chair. "Anyway, none of that crap has anything to do with _me_. I'm off."  
  
He turned around fast and bumped right into Lieutenant Anderson. His elevated heartbeat made another jump in sudden fright, even though Detective Reed did not say anything while he took a deliberate step back.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson frowned down his nose at him. "You not with us?", he said and narrowed his eyes. "You heard it, Fowler's gonna throw a round later."  
  
Detective Reed looked his superior Officer up and down before he slowly blinked as if to control a surge of sudden and strong emotion. His brows furrowed while his lip twitched upward to bare his left canine tooth in a hostile snarl. "Know what, maybe I'll be there just to spite you", he hissed through his teeth. Then he stepped forward and rammed his shoulder hard into Lieutenant Anderson's, even though it made the much taller man barely stagger. Lieutenant Anderson's eyes followed Detective Reed as he stomped out of the bullpen. He did not say a thing.  
  
RK900 watched his partner leave before his gaze slowly drifted lower onto Detective Reed's abandoned desk. The chocolate was still laid out on the red wrapper.  
  
Hesitantly RK900 stepped around Connor and reached out to some small crumbs on the mirroring surface. As soon as his warm fingers touched them, the chocolate crumbs melted on his fingertips. RK900 looked down at the little brown smudge on his index and middle finger. Detective Reed had not accepted his offering of sweets to calm his stressed-out mind.  
  
Had RK900 miscalculated...?  
Had he done something wrong?  
  
Gently he pressed his gathered sample onto his analyzing tool and watched the down-break of data flicker through his HUD.  
  
Additionally to the chocolates chemical composition he also registered traces of Detective Reed's DNA and nicotine. RK900 did not know what he had expected.  
  
 _What was he even doing...?_  
  
RK900 twitched as Lieutenant Anderson's hand fell heavily down onto his shoulder and gently stirred him away from his workplace. "Come on, we all already knew he would just be a dick about it", he said lowly, his voice calm and steady. "It's alright to go and have some fun without him. You deserve a break from things, too."  
  
RK900 watched his face in a try to ascribe a matching emotion to Lieutenant Anderson's expression but was not able to. Slowly he shook his head. "I am an Android, Lieutenant. I do not need fun."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson suddenly froze up. His muscles constricted and locked while his eyes narrowed down. "Ho. Ly. Fucking. Shit?!", he murmured under his breath as he turned around. He stared.  
  
RK990 stared back.  
  
The next moment RK900 had to forcefully deactivate his self-defense protocols as the Lieutenant suddenly ducked and closed both of his arms tightly around RK900's left leg. Astounded RK900 stood and watched while Lieutenant Anderson carried out a smooth and unexpected maneuver that finally trapped RK900 in a secure fireman's carry, draped over the humans' shoulders like a heavy kind of android stola.  
  
RK900 maybe would have struggled if he had not been very concerned that he could accidentally injure the human, whose bones felt so fragile through the thin sheet of cloth and flesh that separated them from another.  
  
Instead, he looked at Connor for advice who only seemed _to laugh his fucking ass off_ while he followed the Lieutenant outside, relaxed and not surprised at all. "What you said just now", he commented with a lilting voice full of unbridled amusement. "Didn't safe _me_ back then, so it won't work for _you_ either."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson forced out a sharp snort and grumbled lowly down into his beard. "Fuckin' androids", he said. "Being an invincible jackass will never be an excuse to get you folks out of social obligations, not on _my_ fucking watch."  
  
RK900 did not know what to say since he did not need breaks and sleep and food and drinks and fun. Aside from that, he was not obligated to participate in workplace-specific social gatherings either, as his own partner had so clearly demonstrated just moments ago.  
  
Again RK900 looked at Connor.  
  
His brother smiled a crooked expression and stretched his thumb in a motivational gesture. "You don't have to be scared. You will be with us. I won't let anyone mock you, I promise."  
  
RK900 blinked. Was this what he was feeling? Fear?  
  
He wanted to say that nothing about this day so far made any sense to him whatsoever and a celebration was simply not necessary. This evening would only be a waste of his time and processing power.  
  
But he clicked his jaw tightly shut when the mere thought of sitting rigidly at his desk through the nightshift arose on his mind.  
  
Preoccupied only with the hostile programs on his own hard drive, the fruitless mission to break his lost brother out of Cyberlife's secured cloud server space or the analyses of Detective Reed's unusual behavior.  
  
Suddenly did staying at work no longer sound appealing at all. He also would not break any rules or instructions, since nobody had ever ordered him to stay either.  
  
"Very well", he said, therefore. "But could you please let me down again, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Thought you'd never ask", Lieutenant Anderson grumbled and instantly corrected his stance.  
  
If it weren't for RK900's over thirty-three thousand dollars worth artificially created vestibular system inside of the plastic shell of his head, he maybe even would have fallen flat on his face when he tumbled down the Lieutenant's back.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The bar Captain Fowler had chosen for their social gathering was not far off the precinct in the city center. The Lieutenant called it unnecessary fancy. A place where you got little umbrellas in your ordered drinks.  
  
RK900 did not give away the probability of Captain Fowler _just wanting to fuck with the Lieutenant in particular_ , which was quite high, unfortunately. Anyway, RK900 sat down at the table and felt unusually out of place. This was clearly an establishment meant for humans to frequent. On the door, he had registered residues of different types of glue from several formerly attached Anti-Android signs.  
  
What was he even expected _to do_ here...?  
  
Lieutenant Anderson seemed to sense his uneasiness. The moment they sat down together he quite obviously tried to distract RK900 with unconventional stories about the kind of bars he once used to frequent. Back in the days when advertisements were still paper printed and a simple phone had been the smartest electronic device in existence.  
  
"Don't forget about Cortana! Wasn't Cortana a thing, too?", asked Officer Brown who had already been there with Officer Barkley and approached them now on sight, instantly chiming into the conversation. Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. "Cortana, who?! You clearly mean Alexa. How old were you back then? Three or something?"  
  
Officer Brown stretched his middle finger and laughed. "Oh, hardy har. But for real, you as the oldest and wisest of us, how was the world back then?"  
  
Lieutenant Anderson wrinkled his nose and mumbled into his glass of orange juice. "A lot less noisy, that's for sure."  
  
Officer Brown gave RK900 a short side glance before he sat down opposite the Lieutenant. "My sister still uses Siri for her appointments and stuff. To think that I can't even imagine a world where my coffee machine doesn't talk to me in the morning..."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't make me start. The stuff I could tell you sounds like tales out of the trenches. I'm older than Google and the commercialization of the internet."  
  
Officer Brown giggled. "No way!", he said but looked down at his phone the moment it chimed noisily. "Ah, Frank and Erin are-..."  
  
"What's on, Fuckers?!", Cheered Officer Chen and lifted her fist in greeting. She didn't waste any time in teasing RK900 before she sat heavily down in the empty chair beside him. RK900 felt something warm curl inside of his hollow chest. "Hello, Officer Chen", he said with a nod of his head.  
  
Widely grinning she gave him a thump up before she leaned her elbows onto the table and reached for the next available menu. "Any idea how many drinks are on the tab?"  
  
Lieutenant Anderson shrugged without a single care since he himself would not order any alcohol any time soon. "Just don't make the mistake to order the most expensive stuff just to annoy him", he said and swirled the glass in his hand to dissolve the sweet sediments of his orange juice. "Captain has seen all that shit before."  
  
Officer Brown gave his greetings to Officer Lawson and Burton when they arrived shortly after Officer Chen before he sat down again with a wide and knowing grin. "Didn't you try to pull that one off last Christmas?"  
  
Lieutenant Anderson, in a rare sight, stretched his middle finger in a relaxed gesture of aversion and wrinkled his nose in a toothless snarl. "Hell yes, I did", he rumbled. "Because androids were free, I had been right and he had been _fucking wrong_."  
He shrugged while he observed the swimming little chunks of fruit in his freshly pressed juice. "I deserved a neat little pick me up after all that drama."  
  
"Hey, Connor!", Hollered Officer Barkley across the table. His eyes positively glowed with a strange kind of curiosity. "Come to think of Christmas, were there any celebrations on your side of things?!"  
  
Connor, who until now just sat and listened with a gaze full of fond amusement, lifted slowly his right brow in an elegant arch while the rest of his face stayed unnervingly still and frozen. "I was present at the same Christmas gathering, Officer Barkley."  
  
He spoke in his usual lilting tone of voice and did not seem resentful in any way. Still, RK900 had the vague feeling, that his brother singled Officer Barkley out. If he would be able to understand, RK900 thought, he might have done the same.  
  
Officer Barkley seemed... _peeved_ that Connor had shone a light on his inattention at the Christmas gathering and promptly did like all angered humans tended to do. He barked. "Oh, fuck off!", he hissed. "You fucking well know what I mean, _princess_."  
  
RK900 blinked and sharply focused his gaze on Officer Barkley when he suddenly felt this strange violent urge to close his fingers tightly around that human's neck and squeeze.  
  
Connor worked in the freshly installed Android Crimes Division. He was constantly forced to work with angry and abusive humans. His job was to know what they knew, which groups formed inside the city, where the riots would start, and what phrases they used as their battle cry.  
  
To form the connection between the old titles of _princess_ , _queen_ , or _count_ and blueblood still left anyone with enough plausible deniability to make it improbable for decent humans to even pick up on the word's significance. Lieutenant Anderson would have, surely, but right now he was distracted by Officer Brown, who showed him a row of photos of his one-year-old border terrier called Ruff.  
  
RK900 had to blink seventy-three obtrusively appearing pre-constructions out of his field of vision before he could lean into the back of his seat. He took a deep breath. As he exhaled the heated air contorted his own visual input.  
  
Connor tilted his head as he answered. "Should you mean Androids, in particular, I don't know if there was much to celebrate at that stage, Officer Barkley."  
  
Officer Chen thanked the waitress as she handed a big brightly pink cocktail glass over to her before she turned and stabbed with a warning index finger at Officer Barkley. "Piss off, you insensitive prick!", she said and even seemed to mean it. Officer Miller, who now arrived at the establishment at the side of Captain Fowler, perked instantly up at Officer Chen's scolding voice and gave Officer Barkley a sharp slap to the back of his head when he walked past him. It looked like a habitual gesture.  
  
"Hey...!", Barkley whined and rubbed along his nape. "I just meant-... wouldn't be so bad if there was a new holiday in it for all of us, that's all."  
He shrugged in a wildly exaggerated gesture. "Dunno, something like independence day, but for androids or something."  
  
Officer Lawson lifted her head out of her formerly very animated conversation with Officer Burton, who now stood up and left the table, and looked highly unimpressed at Officer Barkley. "Oi, you only have your hopes up for another day of paid leave, Mister", she drawled.  
  
Officer Barkley's body temperature noticeably rose while his face flushed red. The talk about holidays caught Lieutenant Anderson's attention again and he gave Officer Brown his phone back. "If Robo-Moses did not declare a national holiday yet, he absolutely should", he said with honest conviction in his voice. "Or maybe design some badass monument for Hart Plaza."  
  
He first lifted his right arm to order a second glass of orange juice, then he turned around to Connor. "Wasn't he with some rich artist before all that happened?"  
  
Connor nodded with a wide smile and narrowed his eyes as he subtly leaned his shoulder into Lieutenant Anderson's. "Carl Manfred", he simply said.  
The Lieutenant forced out a low snort while he, seemingly out of some kind of habit, reached around and placed his arm along the line of Connor's shoulders. "Guess that guy is so fucking proud, he won't ever again shut up about it."  
  
RK900 hummed lowly. Officer Chen beside him twitched, almost like she had forgotten that he was even there. "Human artists usually like to share their personal visions of a re-arranged society", he said.  
  
"And Android artists don't?", asked Officer Chen while she leaned up on her elbows and sucked at the pink straw inside the glass of her even pinker beverage. In his extended field of vision, RK900 saw ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" arrive at the establishment, walk up to the table and sit down beside Captain Fowler. "Considered that they do not exist", RK900 answered openly. "They do not, no."  
  
A little crease appeared right between Officer Chen's brows as she frowned. She took a breath to say something but got cut off by Officer Burton's excited exclamation when he came back from his stroll. "Hey guys!", he said as he propped himself heavily onto Officer Lawson's shoulders. "Asked the staff and they have a pool table in the backroom! Someone wanna play?!"  
  
To RK900's surprise, it was Connor who first gently shrugged to not disturb the Lieutenant's right arm along the line of his shoulders too much, before he answered with a wide, almost predatory smile. "If you feel you are up for it?"  
  
The Officers' reactions came instantaneously. Officer Burton groaned while Officer Brown and Lawson laughed their fucking asses off. "No! Holy shit, fuck the hell, _NO_ , Connor! Never again! There is no fun in playing _anything_ against you!"  
  
Connor looked down at his own right hand, curled his fingers and stroked the pad of his thumb along his artificial fingernails. "Cyberlife absolutely created me to win, but at least they didn't design me as such a sore loser", he said in a sweet lilting tone.  
  
While the Lieutenant broke out into deep, raspy laughter, Officer Brown and Chen both hissed and made a drawled out _uuuh_ sound. Officer Lawson put down her glass and lifted both her brows. "Franky will seriously need some ice for that burn."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson got his breath barely back for long enough to chime in: "If Frank so desperately needs someone to feel superior to, I'll take the hit for the team. But if you want a challenge? Ask the staff for a deck of cards."  
  
Officer Chen snorted and mumbled into her glass. "Maybe later, when we are all totally sloshed."  
  
The newly formed group gathered and left the table, but not without ongoing noisy complaints from Officer Burton. With a soft touch to his shoulder, Connor invited him along, but RK900 instantly declined. There was no point to engage. He was not here to play games with humans. Even though he still did not quite understand why he _was_ here in the first place.  
  
So he now sat at the table with a lot more space to breathe, while his software walked a mile a minute to prevent another data overload like the one that happened at the Detroit Aquarium. Too much data was received just by his optical units alone. Too many faces, too many voices. It was loud and bright and just... _uncomfortable_.  
  
He twitched as Officer Chen gently nudged her elbow against his upper arm. "You really think Androids and humans don't have much in common, huh?", she asked and mumbled around the straw still in her mouth.  
  
RK900 slowly tilted his head. There was not much to think about. "We are both made out of very different things", he said and showed her the plastic shell of his right hand to make his point. "I was created, you were born. I am a calculating machine, which only needs external data input while your knowledge depends on your lived experiences and slow additional training. You have hormones and thoughts and feelings, while I have Algorithms, which determine my whole existence."  
  
Officer Chen looked at his hand and listened attentively. She nudged his arm again, just a little bit harder. "We are different", Officer Chen said. "Yeah, I mean, sure, Captain Obvious. But... are we really incompatible on... an _emotional_ level...?"  
  
RK900 blinked before he slowly shook his head. "You are talking to a _machine_ , Officer. Why would you assume I have any understanding at all of what humans call emotions. I mimic them if I have to, to make for a smoother work environment. That does not mean I have any idea what I'm doing."  
  
Unimpressed Officer Chen lifted her brows and narrowed her eyes at the same time. "You know, I'm quite good at identifying _hot garbage talk_ when I hear it", she said. "Okay Terminator, you don't need to be human or even experience emotions in exactly the same way, to-..."  
  
She twitched and interrupted herself when Captain Fowler recited a horribly illogical joke that made ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" break out in her best imitation of human laughter. Officer Chen seemed suddenly very preoccupied. Her heart rate accelerated together with her whole body temperature. "You really don't think Androids and humans can bond in a meaningful way...?", she asked, still sounding mostly absent-minded.  
  
RK900 blinked. His optical units twitched between Officer Chen and ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" as he finally understood the significance of his answers to her questions.  
  
Bonding, like in forming a connection.  
Like pairs and couples.  
Like romantic and or sexual partners.  
  
RK900's processors hummed as he tried to broaden his understanding of the situation even further. "Wouldn't it be... _pointless_...?", he asked while his brows dipped into a frown. "A machine, even one that is able to experience a system version of emotions similar to yours, would still never be able to form a legacy. Sexual intercourse is a strictly biological imperative and has no point to creatures like us."  
  
Slowly Officer Chen turned around to him. Her grin was wide and her eyes narrowed sharply down on him while her cheeks flushed with hot red blotches. "Oh, see who can say _sexual intercourse_ like a big boy without-...", she interrupted herself through spluttering laughter.  
  
While she laughed there was a minor disturbance in the back room when Officer Barkley seemed to have lost his second round at the pool table. Huffing and cursing he stomped past the other guests, took his jacket from the back of his chair in the main room, and went out the front door.  
  
Officer Chen did not notice or care enough to comment on it. When she was finally done laughing, she wiped tears of mirth from her heated cheeks. "Sex does not need a _point_ , you dummy. For a lot of people, it's just fun and games."  
  
She halted and blinked before she leaned back into her chair. "But yeah, maybe not for you guys, since you are wired so differently."  
  
Officer Chen frowned and was swept away by a random train of thought before she strongly shook it out of her head. "Anyway, that's not what matters right now. You think Androids can fall in love with humans?"  
  
That made RK900 halt his current line of thinking.  
  
  
.....  
.....  
  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900 OPEN** CL.Database.cfx;  
 **SELECT** "CONCEPT_DESCRIPTION" **FROM** "HUMAN.BEHAVIOR.DTB" **WHERE** "EMOTION" == "LOVE";  
  
 **PRINT** :_"Psychology depicts love as a cognitive and social phenomenon. Psychologist Robert Sternberg formulated a triangular theory of love and argued that love has three different components: intimacy, commitment, and passion. Intimacy is a form in which two people share confidences and various details of their personal lives and is usually shown in friendships and romantic love affairs. Commitment, on the other hand, is the expectation that the relationship is permanent. The last form of love is sexual attraction and passion. Passionate love is shown in infatuation as well as romantic love. All forms of love are viewed as varying combinations of these three components.";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900 CLOSE** CL.Database.cfx;  
  
.....  
.....  
  
  
RK900 had to blink several times to get rid of the lingering database article on his HUD.  
  
The information in it was not new but made him instantly think of Connor and Lieutenant Anderson. Connor's always so gentle words and his soft voice when he talked to or about him. The way he looked at the Lieutenant, his touch always cautious and careful. Connor liked to believe Lieutenant Anderson gave him his _soul_.  
  
"Yes", RK900 answered. "I know they can."  
  
Officer Chen's eyes widened. Maybe she did not know how obvious she made her... _affliction_ as she instantly turned and looked at ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli". Maybe it was the alcohol she was consuming that made her even more expressive. RK900 looked down at her for a moment of silent thought. Then he gently nudged his elbow against Officer Chen's upper arm. "You should talk to her", he said, lowly. "Elli is... nice. Approachable. I am sure she would be delighted to-..."  
  
This time RK900 interrupted himself as he suddenly spotted his partner in his extended field of vision. Detective Reed walked past the window to his right and seemed to be entangled in an argument with Officer Barkley who followed behind him with an uncomfortable smile on his face.  
  
"Excuse me, Officer", RK900 said and lifted himself out of his seat. He did not wait for Officer Chen's confirmation but rather went right for the door instead.  
  
The night outside was crisp and clear, if maybe a little bit cold. RK900 walked along the building facade to the street corner behind which he expected to find his partner - but stopped dead in his tracks when his checkup program updated with the new information gathered through the Detective's strongly accelerated heartbeat.  
  
"Why you show up in the first place? Ya don't think anyone here missed your creepy dead-eyed visage, do you?", asked Officer Barkley, who lingered right beside RK900's partner. His partner with a stress level that bordered right now at an unstable eighty percent. Detective Reed was about to _smoke_. He only took his fuel of nicotine when he needed to calm himself down. Almost like some kind of self-soothing reflex.  
  
"Oh no, my sweet old arse honey bumble", Detective Reed answered in a low drawl. "I'm surely not here because I need to see any of you all so badly. Barely can contain myself. It's Arkay's first jolly good workplace gathering", he further said, while mumbling around the filter of the cigarette he now pulled by his teeth out of the packaging in his hand. His calm and steady voice did not betray his elevated vital signs. "To be honest, I was prepared to find a bloodbath with your crushed head under his boot or something."  
  
His lighter snapped and Detective Reed took a deep, lasting drag of his socially accepted drug of choice. He then exhaled a hot stream of smoke while he leaned back against the brickwork of the building behind him. "It's weird that Connor didn't whoop your wrinkly old arse already. That menace has way too much patience with anyone who isn't me."  
  
Officer Barkley forced out a low snort, clearly offended. "Oh wow, Reed, tell me next what that plastic cock tastes like."  
  
Detective Reed shrugged and shifted his weight on his feet. "Dunno", he murmured and sounded rather bored. "Why don't ask your Ma?"  
  
RK900 slipped soundlessly closer to the street corner, while Officer Barkley's vital signs noticeably spiked. The human growled as he stepped into Detective Reed's personal space. "You think you are _so_ funny, you creepy dead-eyed bastard, but do not forget: I _know_ guys like you!", he hissed forcefully through his grinding teeth. "If the others think you are just some random asshole, that's on them. _I know better!_ "  
  
Detective Reed did not reply to that right away. Instead, he took a deep soundless breath that leveled his tense shoulders. His exhale lasted five whole seconds. His following answer was surprisingly simple. "So?"  
  
"Nobody wants you here", Officer Barkley... barked at him. "Not even the plastic cop you wanna suck up to so badly!"  
  
RK900 froze into place. One full minute long he had to blink rows of very unhelpful pre-constructions out of his field of vision. They were quite pointless since he was not allowed to harm humans. It seemed quite odd that Officer Barkley saw RK900s existence as something lesser, but still thought he had the authority _to speak on his behalf_.  
  
RK900 did not like that.  
  
RK900 did like it even less when Detective Reed's reaction came with a stumbling heartbeat while he completely stopped his regular breathing pattern.  
  
"The thing was already talking to the Captain. Do you think even that inhuman pile of scrap metal wants to be in your presence any longer than it needs to be?!", Officer Barkley snarled. "Even that hollow bot understood you aren't quite human!"  
  
Finally, Detective Reed hummed through a long deflating exhale. Still, he did not say anything. Officer Barkley took this as an opening to lean even closer. "Why don't you just accept that nobody cares and finally put yourself out of your own misery?"  
  
RK900's servos locked as his self-assessment routine blocked several cues of deviant behavior. He was not even sure what processes had been blocked. Both his processors overclocked through to irrational and incomprehensible data analysis.  
  
Detective Reed only answered through a low hum at first. He took another deep drag of his cigarette and then exhaled another thick cloud of bright white smoke. Then he answered in his usual drawled out confidence. "Why do you think out of all people I would do _you_ the courtesy?", He asked with a hint of low amusement in his voice. "And You say you _know_ me? Bitch, I exclusively run on spite these days. You better come to terms with the fact that you won't get rid of me any time soon. Until it finally happens, you will furthermore do exactly _as_ I say, _when_ I say it. Like a good old dog."  
  
The following silence had an actual weight to it and lasted for exactly seventy-eight seconds.  
  
"Go and _choke_ , Reed."  
  
Officer Barkley was at least smart enough to not let his aggression escalate into a physical altercation. Following his words, he turned and stomped away, around the street corner - and right into RK900.  
  
RK900 stared down at the tiny human and felt a strange need... to do... _something_. The pre-constructions his program produced got increasingly unhelpful and violent. He could not follow through without serious repercussions.  
  
Officer Barkley opened his mouth.  
  
"You know what?", RK900 said and used the standard calibrations of his voice box because he did not know what tone of voice he wanted to convey. "One minute. I'll give you _one fucking minute_ to hold your breath and go back inside. Then we can both go on and pretend none of this ever happened."  
  
While all of Officer Barkley's color drained from his face, he slowly stepped around RK900 and for good measure gave him a wide berth while doing so. RK900s eyes followed his movement and he only dared to unlock his motor functions once the human was safe and sound back inside the establishment.  
  
When RK900 went around the street corner and naturally took his place beside his partner, Detective Reed was not surprised. Nor was he angry. He just seemed tired. "I don't need you to defend my honor for me", he said while he stared at the graffiti on the brickwork of the opposite building and took another drag from his cigarette. His hand was slightly unsteady.  
  
"Neither do you mine", gave RK900 instantly back. Neither of them needed to. They both did it anyway. "Why are you out here, Detective?"  
  
Detective Reed shrugged. "You already heard it, didn't you? I was around, just to see. Don't need to make a big deal out of it."  
  
"You already want to leave?", RK900 asked. "You still have to spite Lieutenant Anderson. For your own benefit, so I heard."  
  
Detective Reed re-inhaled a drag of smoke and coughed until tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. RK900 used the moment of distraction to pick the cigarette out of his partner's fingers. Superficially he analyzed the white paper and the composition of a hundred different toxins in the white smoke, as well the traces of DNA on its filter. "Hey!", fingers snapped demanding right in front of his face. "Give it back!"  
  
RK900 observed Detective Reed's disgruntled expression before he lifted the cigarette to his own lips. The Detective's eyes went wide as RK900 deeply inhaled - and did not stop. The glow at the cigarette tip went stronger until it vaguely illuminated Detective Reed's whole figure. The tobacco itself burned down to the filter. When the light faded, Detective Reed looked expectantly from RK900's mouth to his eyes, until he remembered that his partner technically did not even need to exhale. "Prick", he muttered lowly to mask his own obvious amusement.  
  
RK900 smiled.  
"Come on inside, Detective."  
  
Detective Reed looked at him and opened his mouth to say something. He seemed then to decide against it. He did not make any kind of move to follow RK900's invitation.

RK900 tilted his head. "Furthermore, Officer Barkley was _wrong_ , Detective. I did not talk to Captain Fowler to ask for a transfer. I asked to stay. My probation period is over."  
  
His partner's reaction to his words was imminent. Detective Reed's shoulders loosened, sunk noticeably, and his face contorted instantly into a toothless snarl while it flushed bright and hot. "Good for you. _Great_. But seriously, why exactly should I care again...?!", he hissed through his grinding teeth, even though his stress levels almost dropped right away down to sixty percent. His heartbeat, though, was still far off its average tact.  
  
Again RK900 smiled.  
"I don't know, Detective."  
  
Detective Reed answered with a rough snort before he stomped agitated around him. "Damn that, fucking baby face", he muttered darkly under his breath. RK900 did not say anything further but followed Detective Reed inside and pressed the cigarette stump down into the next reachable ashtray.  
  
Smoothly he followed Detective Reed through the door and felt something big curl in warm satisfaction inside his hollow chest when his partner stress levels dropped even further when Officer Chen instantly lifted her hand to wave a warm welcome. "Evenin' boss!"  
  
Officer Brown perked up and jumped instantly out of the seat beside her. Detective Reed ignored him and sat down on his colleagues' former chair while he stared disgruntled at the orange tablecloth pattern. Officer Chen's gaze twitched for a short moment back and forth between RK900 and Detective Reed, before she propped her head up in both of her hands and drawled a definitely tipsy: "Aaaaaw!"  
  
Detective Reed crossed her gaze with a death stare and wrinkled his nose. "Shut up."  
  
Captain Fowler lifted a brow and turned his head out of his conversation with Officer Miller. "Reed", he said without inflection as a strange kind of greeting. "Captain", answered the Detective in the same way. "Connor!", screamed Officer Burton, when he again lost his round to him. "Donkey!", hollered Lieutenant Anderson nonsensically out of the back room.  
  
"How's it, boss", asked Officer Lawson and decided to ignore the ruckus by the pool billiard table. "Do _you_ have any?"  
  
Detective Reed looked at her for five full seconds before his brows dipped into a low frown. "Any _what_?!"  
  
"Useless talents", Officer Miller said with a giggle. "We learned today that Tina can play through the fire and flames on guitar hero expert mode."  
  
Detective Reed frowned even deeper before he turned to Officer Chen, almost as if he saw her for the first time. "For real?", he asked. Detective Chen did not say anything, just formed two finger-guns and clicked her tongue while she executed a slightly uncoordinated wink. She had kept the little umbrellas of her ordered drinks and had stacked the three of them neatly on top of each other.  
  
Detective Reed sniffed in his first nonverbal answer and slowly shook his head. "That's kinda impressive, I guess. But no, I've got none. None that I'm awa-..."  
  
"What can you say to provoke a barfight and also to console a crying child?", interrupted him Officer Chen immediately. Detective Reed had not even to think for three whole seconds before he answered: "What's it buddy, wanna call _mommy_?"  
  
Officer Chen slapped her flat hand down onto the table. "Called it!", she sung and reached a hand out to Officer Brown who muttered something unspecific under his breath and gave a ten Dollar note over to her. All the while Officer Miller giggled into his glass of red wine and Captain Fowler shook his head like a long-suffering parent.  
  
"And you, Arkay?", the Captain asked next. To be honest, RK900 felt quite surprised to be included in the conversation. "What about you? I mean, can you even have any?"  
  
RK900 frowned and slowly tilted his head.  
"Define _useless_ ", he asked. Detective Reed instantly provided a useful answer.  
  
"They mean stuff you can do that doesn't necessarily serve a purpose", he said and sounded rather bored while he lifted his arm to catch the waitress's attention. "Some people can lick their elbows, or can play games on insane difficulty settings or can do things that would be painful for anyone else and are still a complete waste of time."  
  
RK900 searched through the depths of Cyberlife's database and found some other mostly bizarre examples. Humans were very creative. RK900 searched through his own program library to find something that fit the description. Connor had his recalibration process. It wasn't exactly _useless_ , but still, a very specific program, only utilized by a handful of very specialized subroutines.  
  
RK900, however, got to realize that he had no programs at all that were not meant to be used multiple times a day for one reason or another. He was not made to fiddle and gesticulate like his brother. He was not made to look human and be empathized with. Instead he was created to stand utterly still, not to be acknowledged and follow given orders to a point. There was nothing useless about his functions since he was designed as a police unit to his own kind.  
  
 _And yet..._  
  
RK900 looked aside at Detective Reed.  
  
"I... guess I have", he said, hesitantly. In the next moment, the Detective looked at least in the same way as curious as the other humans at the table. RK900 looked down at the tablecloth pattern. "Not _useless_. But since deviant Androids count as of now as civilian people, I have actually a lot of functions in my coding I can't legally make any use of anymore."  
  
Detective Reed accepted a glass full of a glaringly blue sugar-ridden soft drink from the waitress and then swayed to knock his elbow hard into his partner's side. "And what's that?", he scoffed, clearly convinced RK900 exaggerated his abilities. "I demand proof. Pics or it didn't happen and so on, Babyface."  
  
RK900 smiled because he did not know what else to do. His thirium pump reported once more minor functionality errors.  
  
When he lifted his gaze again, ANDROID:_ST400:_"Elli" on the other end of the table flinched noticeably and did not dare anymore to look into his general direction. Her levels of stress climbed up into a state of earnest agitation. Maybe she had a vague understanding of the things he could do.  
  
RK900 would not do anything to her.  
She would perceive it as a hostile invasion and maybe would even damage her own system in a try to fend him off. Also would RK900 not take advantage of any strangers in the room who were just unlucky enough to be Androids in his presence.  
  
Who was he even allowed to pull in for a simple little _demonstration_...?  
  
RK900 blinked and hesitated for two more seconds until he activated his attack routines and broke into ANDROID:_RK800:_"Connor"s operating system. Even if Connor had been aware and on all of his defenses, there would have been little he could have done to prevent RK900 from what he did next. RK900 was able to do anything Amanda had been capable of.  
  
He decided to only change something minuscule. Nothing too invasive. He just recreated a default setting on his brother's voice box.  
  
Still, Connor was of course instantly aware that he had done... _something_. But since RK900 was also able to forge and block the creation of changelogs in his brother's system files-...  
  
" _What_ have you _done_?!"  
  
Suddenly Connor stormed out of the backroom like a lurking thunderstorm. He perfectly expressed all the markers of an infuriated human, from the angry spark in his eyes to his tightly balled fists. Lieutenant Anderson followed him not far behind, his right hand halfway risen and ready to hold Connor back from a physical altercation if necessary - Or at least try to.  
  
RK900 did not feel threatened, not like most of the humans at the table. Not even when Connor loomed across it and slammed both of his plastic white hands down onto the thin sheet of wood between them. "You will tell me _this instant_ what you did or we will both have a big *** problem!!"  
  
RK900 motionlessly returned Connor's stare and simply waited out the moment his brother finally understood. The deep crease between Connor's brows slowly untightened while his eyes went wide. One hand shot up to his mouth as he stared down at his own fingertips.  
  
"***!", he exclaimed.  
  
Following that, his eyes narrowed down on RK900 while his rage morphed into a disgruntled expression of unrestrained annoyance. "*** *** and *** on a ***, you *** ***!!", he hollered and stabbed his stretched index finger repeatedly in the general direction of RK900's chest.  
  
Following that, Connor crossed his arms tightly in front of his own and forced out a sharp huff of searing air. Lieutenant Anderson's gaze snapped at least as irritated from Connor to RK900 and back as Captain Fowler's. All humans at the table were shocked into speechless silence. They just stared while they processed the demonstrated attack on Connor's personal freedom.  
  
All but for Detective Gavin Reed who coughed and spluttered through his formerly lifted drink and laughed so hysterically hard, he went on to almost fall out of his chair.  
  


* * *

  
"I won't say it wasn't funny, because it was honest to god the funniest thing I've ever witnessed in my entire life", Lieutenant Anderson said as he turned the key in the lock of his front door. "That doesn't mean I approve of you doing shit like that _ever_ again."  
  
RK900 agreed and apologized for the seventh time this evening and followed the Lieutenant over the threshold.  
  
Connor stomped inside as well and went in a beeline for the dog which already had sprung up from it's sleeping place by Lieutenant Anderson's desk to give them all a proper welcome home.  
  
Connor's connection request came without a physical interface and RK900 accepted instantly.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" recognized **INCOMMING** _ **CONNECTION** _ **REQUEST** [ **FROM** ] # 313 248 317 - 52 == **ANDROID** : **RK800** :_"Connor";  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 52:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"I know and understand that you only did it to make Detective Reed laugh. But, please, never do it again.";  
  
RK900 tilted his head while he watched his brother on the floor, where he held the dog in his arms like a giant plush toy. The expression on his brother's face could easily be identified as an ill-tempered pout. Connor was currently sulking.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"My intention was merely to provide Detective Reed with evidence for my previous statement. But I agree. I won't do it again.";  
  
Connor's answering message came instantly in combination with a blank stare over the happily panting dog's wide shoulders.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 52:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You promise?";  
  
RK900 frowned since he did not understand the relevance of a human pledge to an implemented order to cease and desist.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_" I won't do it again.";  
  
"Connor?"  
  
RK900 lifted his gaze back to Lieutenant Anderson, who gently gave Connors right shoulder a little squeeze and shake while he bent over him.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Can you do me the favor and take that old lazybones for a stroll?", Lieutenant Anderson asked and nodded at the dog between Connor's legs. "Your little brother and I... we have some stuff to talk about. I would say an hour will be enough, but Champ here might be done sooner."  
  
Connor stood up in one fluid motion and went instantly for the door. "Of course, Lieutenant", he said and left as soon as the dog was done blocking his attempts at attaching the leash in its excitement to go outside for a midnight walk.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 52:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"He doesn't want me to listen. Why?";  
  
When the Lieutenant gestured at him to do so, RK900 sat down at the kitchen table and waited patiently, while the human vanished down the corridor and unlocked the door to his garage.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_" Lieutenant Anderson agreed to provide me with relevant information regarding my partner.";  
  
Connor's response needed a tenth of a second longer than usual to appear on RK900's HUD.  
  
 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 52:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Detective Reed. I see. Don't let the Lieutenant mislead you into a compassionate approach when the Detective might not even deserve one. Lieutenant Anderson has a disposition to romanticize the good in people, even though your partner tends to be a massive prick.";  
  
A sudden error report of his thirium pump regulator threw a disruptive pulse through RK900's entire system.  
  
He instantly reconnected the so suddenly cut conversation and was about to respond when a crunching noise out of the garage made him perk up. A sound like metal on metal with sand in between.  
  
Shortly after, Lieutenant Anderson came back inside. An old spiderweb was tangled in the strands of his formerly so neatly groomed beard and both of his hands and elbows were blackened and grimy with old soot. "Here it is", he said and placed a closed cardboard box in front of RK900 on the kitchen table. He then proceeded to thoroughly wash his hands and lower arms in the kitchen sink. RK900 watched him for a full minute before he hesitantly reached out for the box in front of him.  
  
"No", said Lieutenant Anderson with an unusual sharpness to his voice and glanced over his left shoulder to additionally show RK900 the disapproval on his face. "Remember our deal, Champ."  
  
RK900 slowly tilted his head and let both of his hands sink back down onto the smooth and cool surface of the kitchen table. "What is your question, then?"  
  
The Lieutenant first dried his hands and then walked around RK900's chair to take a seat across. He looked down at the inconspicuous cardboard box between them and frowned while the fingers of his right hand went through his beard to remove the last remnants of spider silk. He then proceeded to interlock his twitchy fingers and let them rest on the table in a mirror image of RK900's. The human observed him with a scrutinizing stare before he leaned back and let out a deep deflating sigh.  
  
"Are you aware that, what I am about to share with you, is in all seriousness _a huge fucking deal_?", he finally asked his question after almost five more minutes of uncomfortable silence.  
  
RK900 tilted his head out of the living room light and regarded the Lieutenant with a low frown. He opened his mouth to give his answer but was interrupted.  
  
"For real", Lieutenant Anderson said and pointed his stretched index finger right into RK900's face. "You absolutely have to understand how in deep you are about to go. What I'm about to show you is stuff I shouldn't even _have_. None of this can ever leave this house. _Do you understand this_?"  
  
A spark caught in RK900's thirium pump and messed with its regularity. A short stumbling rhythm later, RK900 detached his analyzing tool from the roof of his suddenly paper dry oral cavity - and then he nodded. "I do", he said and narrowed his optical units in a representation of his earnestness.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson looked searchingly up at him before he went on. "Should you ever use this against Reed, _for whatever reason_ , I will not only be disappointed in you but also majorly pissed off. You get that?"  
  
This time RK900 felt a lot more confidant in his answer when he nodded his agreement almost instantly. " _I do_."  
  
The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes and scanned him in his human way before he slowly nodded his approval. "Good", he said. "Now see."  
  
Following that he reached out and opened the cardboard box. It contained one single paper file folder and several printed photographs, already grainy with old dust and humidity. RK900 spotted some other trinkets, like at least three handwritten letters, concert tickets, and an old and withered leather wristband.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson pulled out the file folder, three chosen photographs, and the wristband before he closed the box again. Following that he placed the items on the table in front of RK900 with all three photographs upside down.  
  
Then he flipped around the first one.  
  
RK900's processors hummed through their production of excessive heat while he gathered as much data as was physically possible in such a short timespan. The first photo was a mugshot of a gaunt human male in his early twenties. There was no corresponding article in local newspapers or Cyberlife's database, but RK900's software instantly recognized and highlighted the similarities between his partner and this so young and strange-looking person in its too big and dirty clothes.  
  
"This is Detective Reed...?", he asked, because, despite his software connecting all of his visual input to Cyberlife's database, he still could not be sure when no match was found.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson hummed lowly under his breath. "Hard to believe, huh?", his eyes narrowed as he fell into deep thought. "Was as skinny as a dead rat back then. Almost dead on his feet with-... through his frankly abysmal... _habits_."  
  
RK900 blinked.  
"You mean recreational drugs but won't say so", He said flatly and could not understand why humans wasted their time to find prettier words for a horrible thing. Flowery language would not change what had already happened. "What drugs?"  
  
Lieutenant Anderson breathed a deep voiceless sigh and followed it up with a shrug. "You name it, he took it", he muttered darkly. "The day I found him, he was-... the doctors called it a drug-induced apathy. His brain was completely overworked with a fuckton of different stimulants. If that crime scene had not happened and he had laid down to sleep... He would most likely not be alive and well today."  
  
Overdose. An ugly death, to poison their own body until it was too weak and gave up all its autonomic functions. RK900 could feel... something inside his chest. Something tight and hot. Once more a senseless kind of anger on behalf of another person. RK900 knew what it felt like to be desperate enough for stimulus to even damage himself for it.  
  
His gaze fell onto the wristband, braided out of strands of brown leather. It showed teeth marks and traces of DNA evidence. Attached were colorful plastic coins with withered black numbers on them from one to eleven. They looked like the ones detoxification centers gave out to their patients.  
  
Hesitantly RK900 reached out and traces the leather band with his fingertips. He could name no exact reason for why he was doing it.  
  
"What crime scene, Lieutenant?", he went on and asked to get more details, but that infuriating human waved his question away as not important. "That's all of the basics you need to know. Everything else Reed can tell you himself - should he ever want to. That fellow got dealt one hell of a shit hand when he was young. Stuff like that stays with us for life."  
  
RK900 nodded since he knew the basics of human psychology and carried thousands of corresponding sources and articles in his database. He knew how the human brain worked through trauma. He already diagnosed Detective Gavin Reed's high irritability, his impatience, and obvious mood swings as a possible sign of PTSD. What he wanted and maybe even _needed_ to know was _the root of it_.  
  
"After... all of _that_ , Reed went into a rehabilitation program. Got cleaned up. Got his qualifications. Then he applied at Ann Arbor Academy and got picked."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson reached out and flipped up the second photo. It showed Detective Reed on his graduation day. He stood in his uniform like RK900 used to stand in parade-rest position. His eyes were sunken and strangely empty of any kind of emotion. He still looked underfed and tired, but so much more like a living breathing person. Testing, RK900's fingertips followed the line of a younger Detective Reed's jaw. A smooth young face still void of any major scars.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson watched him for a silent moment before he cleared his throat and flipped up the last of the chosen photographs. It wasn't surprising that this one made him the most uncomfortable. It showed Detective Reed inside the same room they were currently sitting in, still in his DPD uniform. The camera had been held at an unusual angle like someone had tried to keep it hidden from sight. This photograph showed Detective Reed with a big and shining smile on his face. He looked up to a tiny blond boy he carried on his shoulders.  
  
This time the Cyberlife database provided RK900 instantly with Detective Reeds DPD profile. The same it did for the child.  
  
AMAB human Cole Anderson --- Son to Lieutenant Hank Anderson and ((No mother registered)) // Born 23.09.2029 --- Died 01.11.2035 // domiciled in 115 Michigan Drive // ((no medical record)) // Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '31.76' marked under 'low priority'.  
  
Detective Reed had known and frequently interacted with Lieutenant Anderson's son.  
  
RK900 looked up and tilted his head in silent question. Lieutenant Anderson huffed his low laughter. "Yeah, the three of us were once pretty close."  
  
RK900 looked down at the photograph. "And then Cole Anderson died."  
  
"I-...", The Lieutenant twitched and for a brief moment almost looked.... _hurt_. Then he breathed a bone-weary sigh that seemed to deflate his whole person. "Yes...", he muttered. "Then he died. It's bad that I don't remember much of that month. It was a... extraordinarily stressful time, I guess."  
  
RK900 did not say anything, because he did not feel like it was his place to comment. He truly did not understand the concept of death and loss since it was not inherently a part of an androids' existence. He knew what grief could do to humans. He even knew that it was an emotion powerful enough to kill them. But he was not able to... _empathize_.  
  
Words felt hollow in light of that.  
  
"Cole's-... I was not a good Lieutenant, after. Nor a good person, I guess", murmured Lieutenant Anderson in a careful tone of voice. Slow and deliberate. "I was... preoccupied... and also bitter and cruel. I forgot Reed when I shouldn't have. Because of me, Reed dealt with all of that on his own."  
  
To underline his point he tapped his right index finger down onto the third photograph. His big hand threw a dark shadow over Detective Reed's young face.  
  
"But that's not all of what had happened that month."  
The Lieutenant lifted both of his hands and rubbed them strongly over his face. His heart rate was accelerated and his body temperature was conspicuously low. He blinked a few times since unnecessary moisture gathered in his eyes while he frowned at the ceiling.  
  
"On the thirtieth of November I suddenly got a phone call in the middle of the night from his number", he said and stopped to swallow. "When I picked up and told him to fuck off, he didn't answer. But there was a noise in the connection... it sounded _so awful_."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson fell into a silent moment before he roughly cleared his throat. When he spoke further, his voice held a noticeable tremor. "When I finally stood at his front door he wouldn't open. So I broke it in. Inside-... it... it was one of the most horrible things I ever saw."  
  
He seemed to hold onto that thought and rolled it through his circling mind. Then he took a deep breath. "Reed survived since it's another thing that guy utterly excels at. I didn't want this to be another marker in his file that could ruin his life after he worked _so hard_ to get clean. So I interpreted the crime scene maybe a little more... freely than I would have otherwise."  
  
RK900 nodded. "You forged your report."  
  
The Lieutenant groaned. "I forged my report."  
  
RK900 blinked. It was not hard to understand why Lieutenant Anderson had it done this way. There was a lot of room for additional grief. And guilt. RK900 nodded again, this time without saying anything.  
  
The Lieutenant put his head down into his left hand and reached with his right for the file folder.  
"When I was at the scene I wiped most of the traces of my boot from his front door and fucked up his stuff a little after I called emergency service. Just enough to make it look like someone had broken in."  
  
RK900 wanted to open the folder, but Lieutenant Anderson pressed his hand down. "Be prepared. It's graphic", he said and lifted his brows in a warning.  
  
Rk900 frowned since he could not imagine what would persuade the human to warn a machine about crime scene material. RK900 acknowledged his concern with a nod and opened the file.  
  
Nothing could have prepared him for the assault his cooling system produced on his vital biocomponents as his thirium pump threatened to freeze under the sudden stimulus of a thousand contradictory commands.  
  
Detective Reed had tried to shoot himself.  
  
To him it was clear as day even though the angle seemed unusual in comparison to other, more successful, suicides. most likely that was the detail that had made the Lieutenants report more believable.  
  
The crime scene showed a pool of blood and drag marks since the Detective had desperately tried to crawl and reach for his phone.  
  
The muzzle of the gun must have gotten pressed between his throat and his jaw bone. The bullet had entered from the right side and shot upward. It had exited through the bridge of his nose. Had ripped his face wide open along his left cheek till down to the corner of his mouth.  
  
RK900 clears his HUD from an overflow of meaningless error reports before he lifted his eyes from the file. "It wouldn't do Detective Reed any good if people knew about this. But why don't they already?"  
  
Lieutenant Anderson puffed out his cheeks as he groaned. "Here comes the creepy shit: _I have no fucking idea_. All of what you can see here", he tapped at the case file. "And the rest of the stuff in this box, it was all public record, once."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson clapped his hands noisily together. "And, well, it somehow _isn't_ anymore. Reed's DPD Profile was completely purged and the rest altered a significant amount. No idea."  
  
Well, RK900 had instantly a viable suspicion. But he was not asked.

"What about his colleagues. Or Captain Fowler."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson slowly shook his head. "Jeffrey only knows what I told him and what's in the files. He's a smart man, so I think he _knows_ it's bullshit. He knows Gavin-...", The Lieutenant interrupted himself and rubbed along his mouth. "He did not question my report. That's all that matters. The others only know vaguely what happened and if someone was curious enough they might have accessed the case file."  
  
He then shrugged and shook his head. "Reed was never a popular guy so no friends sniffing around. Everything incriminating in his Profile got censored over the years. Sometimes I get letters with seemingly the last physical copies of his files from... someone."  
  
He frowned as he narrowed his eyes at the white unlabeled box on the table. "Maybe because it's a crime to fuck with official database profiles they are afraid to go completely through with it, dunno. I keep it here. You are the first person I ever told about this."  
  
Again Lieutenant Anderson groaned and put his head down in his hands. "Listen, Arkay. Most important is, that Gavin-... He's a good kid. He's also a dick. A massive, venomous, spiteful dick. But he's also _good_."  
  
He lifted his head with a weary look in his eyes. "The content of this box and everything I've told you could entirely _ruin his life_. And it's the reason for almost every last one of his troubles", His eyes narrowed as he bit down. "I _trust_ you with this."  
  
RK900 blinked. Then he nodded.  
"Because of Connor", he said dryly.  
  
The Lieutenant blinked before he pulled his brows into a low frown. " _What_... ?"  
  
RK900 breathed a voiceless sigh since to him it was quite obvious. "Connor pulled you out of your depression and suicidal tendencies. You are convinced I can do the same for Detective Reed."  
  
Lieutenant Anderson's frown slowly fell from his astounded expression. he blinked at the box and looked all in all as if he had not considered it all like that before. "Uh, well", he muttered and scratched roughly along the back of his neck. "You like the guy. so... uh... It's a good start, at least... ?"  
He followed it up with an awkward clearing of his throat.  
  
Rk900 watched him before his gaze fell down onto the case file. slowly he shook his head. "I don't think I can do that", he said lowly.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson frowned again before he stretched and gently flicked his index finger to RK900's nose to get his full attention. "Now, what makes you think that?"  
  
RK900 twitched back at the sudden touch and held his hand up to stop the Lieutenant from doing it again. "I'm a _machine_ , Lieutenant", he said dryly. "What makes you think I am capable of balancing out his fragile emotional state?"  
  
To his surprise, Lieutenant Anderson laughed. his whole frame shook with mirth. when he lifted his gaze again there was a visible glint of... _something_ in his eyes. "Because you can be whatever he wants or needs you to be", he said and it sounded like a quotation. "A friend, a buddy to drink with. or just a machine. I believe you want to be at least one of those things. You don't have to understand everything that goes on in his stupid head. Just be aware and have an eye out for him."  
  
He could be whatever his partner wanted or needed. Yes, RK900 supposed that was true. His whole software was built to be stable and at the same time intelligent and highly adaptive. Even without the right and functioning social protocols he still could... he _could_ -...  
  
Errors of a lurking software instability flickered through his extended field of vision. RK900 blinked them away before he looked once more down at the three photographs. "He looked... sad", he murmured and tapped on the oldest picture of his partner.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson's delighted grin slowly lost its shine as he, too, looked at the worn-out young man that stared dead-eyed back at them. Then he hummed lowly under his breath and nodded. "Yeah, he was. Miserable like a starved dog... I was _so angry_ with his mum, I-..."  
  
"You know her?", asked RK900 instantly. Lieutenant Anderson looked searchingly at him before he nodded. Once more he hummed his confirmation. "hmm hm."  
  
RK900 narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in a silent inquiry. "Why didn't she protect him from this?"  
  
"It's- ...", The Lieutenant stuttered into silence and frowned. then he finally shrugged and shook his head. "It's a long story, I guess. One for _him_ to tell."  
  
RK900 imitated his low hum in answer. He compared the three photographs on the table. Finally, he tapped his index finger down on the second one. "I... think I like this photograph", he said with a slow tilt of his head. people tended to like what they deemed familiar. he saw into the face of this blank young man and almost could see himself, in a way. His expression seemed similar, his stance familiar. RK900 looked at him and saw _something kindred_.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson's smile was wide as he hummed his approval. "Yeah. It almost looks like some miraculous transformation, doesn't it?", he asked and pulled the first photo closer to get a better contrast. "Back then, he was different. less worked up and anxious, less obsessed with his job, less angry at everyone and everything."  
  
RK900 could see the difference, In Detective Reed's bearings and of course in his eyes. He had been different and less angry. But only because he hadn't cared. RK900's eyes flickered to the third photograph. Cared not for much, at least. A drug-induced apathy, that most likely caused long term depression and major difficulties for a young man like him to connect with his own feelings and emotions. To work through his undoubtedly existing trauma.  
  
In comparison, RK900 went through his own data collection of his partner today. A loud man, proud and obnoxious. Smart and spiteful and so very expressive. RK900 frowned. "I think I still like him better today", he said with a final nod.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson's spluttering laughter almost caused him a series of painful hiccups. Still giggling he lifted a hand and wiped tears of mirth out of his eyes. "Can't believe it", the human forced out before he broke out in loud laughter once more. Weak with it he let himself fall into the back of his chair and sucked in a deep calming breath.

RK900 frowned. "Did I say something wrong?", he asked.  
  
Lieutenant Anderson weakly waved his concern away, still giggling and gasping for breath at the same time. "Fucking Arkay Androids", he laughed while tears gathered in his beard. "Only _you_ guys can look at pitiful, tousled creatures like _that_ and think _Yeah, you know what? Fuck all others,_ this _is the one I want!_ I swear to fucking god!"  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really found a new appreciation for zalgo. I love it and it's really helpful to express some shit in just the right way.
> 
> Tina is going places. Hopefully with her crush, someday.  
> That little Database snippet about love is quite obviously a citation from Wikipedia. Because we all do horrible google searches when we are excited. RK900 googles love and finds out he has cancer D:
> 
> I have no idea what Connor was swearing.  
> Give me your best guess in the comments, could be fun :D 
> 
> Adoption of therapy human --- SUCCESSFUL
> 
> The content is complete, no changes to that, but I might start another run at spelling and format later :]


	9. The Thing With Smart Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes families aren't happy and can't be fixed. Sometimes circumstances align for a homicide Detective to go out and deal with social service. 
> 
> Who would have thought Detective Reed has a soft spot for children?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing explicit about this chapter. It's more implied that both parents are pretty callous shitheads regarding their children, But the rest is a thing for your imagination.

The morning after his first social gathering was an interesting one in a sense. Overnight RK900 had kept on creating even more creatures out of his encrypted memory files for Cyberlife cloud server #347.

Disguised as tiny mice and rats the new files were safe in their nimble little hulls, easy to hide in the vast 3D polygon space of the garden. To carry these important memories not with him on his own hard drive made RK900 feel… fragile, in a way. It did not feel right or safe, even though RK900 acknowledged that it was a necessary precaution. 

No one could ever be allowed to access RK900's logged documentation of Lieutenant Anderson's Illegally obtained DPD Database information. Even though RK900 had great confidence in the stability and sturdiness of his own Operating system - he would *not* take a gamble on his partner's life and safety, since Detective Reed had already tried to kill himself at least once before. 

RK900 would never dare to recreate a situation where circumstances might add up similarly stressful enough to poke at Detective Reed's most vulnerable self-destructive tendencies. 

His purpose was to *sooth* them. 

RK900 had accepted these additional mission parameters easily enough, because they did not even require him to make changes to his currently running approach. Instead, he was only a little bit more aware of *why* he did it when he placed the steaming cup of coffee on his partner's desk when Detective Reed finally clocked in for the day. 

RK900 almost absentmindedly filed his side of the paperwork and created new case files while he accessed all of this newly archived information of last evening and forced it into perspective by comparing it with his own observations on Detective Reed's rough personality.

Once the Detective had been abandoned to carry a burden of grieve all on his own, while he also had been isolated from the one person he had obviously trusted most - and it had almost killed him. 

Somewhen between Cole Anderson's death and Detective Reed's attempted suicide he had even been called to identify the child's body. 

Detective Reed's coping skills were, like all of his emotional responses, poorly developed, and most confrontational in nature. He reacted to loss of control of any kind with open hostility. The next stage had to be his biting and mean spirited sense of humor until everything collapsed into openly self-destructive behavior.

Maybe the dead boy on the table had been *the last straw*, the catalyst, for a vicious downward spiral as it was called in most of RK900's available references on human psychology.

He had not asked Lieutenant Anderson about it when the human failed to mention that specific incident in his rough description of the November timeline. Lieutenant Anderson had said his memory failed him around that fateful month. Fading memories were a common enough human reaction to stress, loss and grief in general. Maybe Detective Reed experienced lapses in his memories around that time as well.

RK900 could not ask either of them further questions without showcasing his own lack of sensitivity about the subject at hand, so he didn't.

RK900 had to remind himself once more of Lieutenant Anderson's words: the difference between wanting to *know* and wanting to *understand*. He-…

“Do I have something on my face?!”

RK900's thoughts were rudely interrupted by Detective Gavin Reeds low growl. While RK900 blinked and shut down some idling background processes, the human pulled his face into a deep and awful scowl that stretched the scar across his nose into a fine white line. 

Only now RK900 realized, he had kept on gathering observational footage of his partner while shifting through his memory system - even though he was not quite sure why. 

RK900 had to blink some warning errors about a not further specified software instability out of his HUD before he lowered his gaze onto his own desk. “I apologize for staring at you, Detective”, RK900 murmured with a heavy feeling around his overclocking thirium pump. 

He had not even actively analyzed anything about the footage he had been saving. As he made good for the wasted opportunity, just to be efficient in his workflow, RK900 took finally notice of the chocolate. 

Yesterday it lay broken up, but still mostly untouched on his partners desk. Some minutes ago, though, Detective Reed had actually started to pull the packaging close and pick it even further apart. He actually *ate* the chocolate. 

RK900 felt a strange kind of hum under the surface of his entire chassis. Something warm. And very real, somehow. 

He opened his mouth, even though he did not even know what he wanted to say. He shut it again with a noticeable click of his artificial teeth. 

Typically light footsteps announced Connor's arrival at his desk and RK900 could not help to find it rather… *endearing* how Detective Reed could make the simple act of ignoring another person look rather aggressive. 

Connor did not say anything, just transferred his next case details and location over to RK900 like he did every time he left the precinct. RK900 did not need his location to reach out to him… so he was sure it had to be a deviant thought process. Something Connor had to do to ease his own mind. Maybe he just wanted RK900 informed to be able to find him should something ever happen on his cases. Connor was an Android after all and therefore like every last one of them in a vulnerable position. 

Lieutenant Anderson was currently on the phone and gathered the details of their next crime scene. Like usual they were both very busy and most of their time not at the station. 

But on his way out of the bullpen, right as Connor joined him and the Lieutenant ended his last call, his phone rang a second time. 

RK900 lowered his eyes since their casework was still not his concern. He should not listen in either.

Shortly after said call, however, Lieutenant Anderson hurried back to his own desk and wrote something down on a notepad. Then he unexpectedly marched over and approached Detective Reed. 

“I… uh… have somethi-…”, he started but Detective Reed was ready to fight in an instant. “I can't pretend you don't exist if you are talking. Go away, Anderson, people are working.”

The Lieutenant breathed a deep soundless sigh that seemed to almost deflate his whole person. “Don't be a massive prick", he said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm still technically your boss, you know.”

Detective Reed let himself fall into the back of his chair and used the momentum to turn it around. “ *Technically* you are *many* things”, he said dryly. “Even some that I cannot call you without getting myself into disciplinary group counseling for the benefit of my lacking anger management.”

The further he spoke the rougher and deeper turned his voice until he bared his teeth through an aggressive snarl. 

Lieutenant Anderson looked down at him - and finally shrugged to dismiss him. "Guess so. that's fair", he said. “Anyway, I got a call from a-… some abusive household. Mommy is one of the nasty kind.”

Detective Reed threw his arms in the air. "So what?!", he hissed through his teeth. "As long as they are both still alive it's literally none of our business. Send the social workers!"

RK900 could easily see where Detective Reed had gotten his reputation for being a callous, unfeeling person. Even though he was most likely only annoyed that Lieutenant Anderson wanted to obviously send him out on an errand. 

"The husband wants to make a statement. Maybe even bring it to court."

Lieutenant Anderson turned his head and looked at the entrance area. He sniffed and scratched along his nose. "Rook and Abel are already there, but the-… they specifically asked for *Abbygale* ." 

“I'm not-…!", began Detective Reed but swallowed his sharp words almost instantly. He blinked and frowned even deeper. Then he looked up at the Lieutenant. “Do *I* know them?”, he asked. 

The Lieutenant nodded in answer. “Yeah, you do, actually. Even though the name Eddy Grossman might not ring a bell anymore. It has been… over ten years or something, now that I think of it. His oldest might remember you, though.”

Again Detective Reed leaned back. He took a deep breath that lasted five full seconds. "Alright", he said after a likewise long exhale. “Good. We go. See if the old hag didn't leave on her own.” 

Lieutenant Anderson nodded. "Thanks. I apprec-…"

"I do not care", hissed Detective Reed with disruptive force and lifted himself out of his chair. Fast he ripped the handwritten note out of the Lieutenant's hand. "You owe me two now."

Then he took his jacket and stomped away without telling RK900 to follow.

RK900 watched his partner go before he lifted his head. "Who is Abbygale?"

Lieutenant Anderson opened his mouth to speak but got out not a single sound. Roughly he cleared his throat. “Not important”, he finally said. "Anyway, the family won't make you any trouble. The pisspot of a wife might, though."

RK900 looked past the work desks to his partner who got currently held up by Officer Miller by the entrance. "I imagine Detective Reed has enough training to handle himself in some way", he said. Lieutenant Anderson let out a sharp snort. “Oh, you have no idea”, he said. 

RK900 heard the amusement in his voice and it got him curious. 

“Arkay!”

RK900 twitched and lifted his head. Detective Reed looked expectantly at him while he wormed his arms into his leather jacket. “Move your plastic arse, Terminator. We have places to see and people to do!”

RK900 sprung to his feet and followed instantly. 

* * *

They sat silently in Detective Reed's car on the way to Pendant Street 723. Somewhere in the finalized Cyberlife neighborhood rebuilding program areas on the western border of their jurisdiction. As far as RK900 could evaluate the situation, it was no usual occurrence for central DPD Detectives to be sent out to deal with cases of domestic abuse. 

So, since an unknown *Abbygale* was involved, it had to be a personal favor of some kind. Something Detective Reed knew about. 

RK900 had been too distracted by Detective Reed's hostility to ask questions. Now, since they already were on the way to the scene, it seemed rather pointless to ask, since RK900 could figure it out for himself in just some more minutes. 

But there still was something he needed to know. Something he did not understand. It irritated him. 

“Detective Reed?”, he asked lowly while he observed his partner's reflection in the windshield. 

Detective Reed forced out a sharp snort. “Yes, Arkay?”, he asked in a drawn-out and mostly… *sarcastic* tone of voice. 

RK900 decided to ignore his partner's antics.   
"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Detective Reed bared his teeth in an obnoxiously wide grin. "I don't know, Arkay", he said, still in that voice. " *Can* you?"

RK900 frowned and tilted his head. "My system is currently functioning at its highest capacity", he stated, since he could detect nothing that would stop him from-… 

Oh…

Detective Reed pulled a face almost as if he had bitten into an overripe lemon. “… whatever”, he muttered under his breath and then stated loud and clearly: "Ask." 

RK900 watched his partner's exasperation and decided he had to try harder to understand his language. Even just for his own benefit since RK900 did not enjoy being mocked. Not even or especially by Detective Reed.

Not that Detective Reed constantly mocked or belittled him. Not really. Not in the way he mocked and provoked Lieutenant Anderson and Connor. Which was the next thing he wanted to know more about. RK900 had now a good understanding of the tensions between Lieutenant Anderson and his partner. But-…

"Why do you hate Connor so much?", he asked and was honestly curious to hear his reasoning - if there even was one, since it could also be just a case of general antipathy. 

Detective Reed did not take his eyes from the road as he growled out a low noise and rolled his tongue through his mouth. When he finally decided to speak, he did it slow and pointedly. Seemingly well aware that he was basically talking about RK900's only family. 

"He's a meddling annoyance", he hissed through his teeth, low and… *sulking* . "that's why."

Rk900 felt a wave of amusement catch inside his chest. Again it forced a grinding noise out of his hardware, a glitch caused by several logical software errors. "I share most of my memories with Connor", he said and was surprised to see his partner flinch, even though he did not comment. "I know you both had a rough start. But now he is a person and you already said you were wrong. That you were sorry." 

It was interesting to observe his human handler think and blink since there was basically no way for RK900's basic social protocols to correctly foresee the outcome of their conversation. He just… wanted to know so much more. 

Detective Reed swallowed and narrowed his eyes before he spoke up again. "I did", he said lowly under his breath. "And I am."   
His words were followed by some slow beats of silence. Detective Reed cleared his throat before he continued. "But… you know, I always really *hated* that guy. Made me angry and twitchy, couldn't even point out why. Today I know I just disliked him for the wrong reasons."

Detective Reed stopped at a traffic light and used the short pause to turn around and look right into RK900's eyes. "Connor is not a horribly annoying fuckwaffle because he's an *android*. He is one because he's the most annoying helicopter mommy I've ever got to see." 

RK900s amusement slowly faded as he tried to follow the Detectives line of thought. "Mommy?", he asked bluntly because he did not understand the connection. Androids could not bear children - even though RK900 came to think that nothing was stopping them from fostering and adoption.

Detective Reed rolled his eyes before he closed them and pinched the root of his nose between his left thumb and index finger. "Look", he said. "I know you are basically their happy surprise baby. He's your big brother. He wants you in a safe environment and we both know I'm the furthest away from safe as you can get."

Following that he threw up his hands, followed by a storm of animated gestures. I don't even hold it against him, really! But what I know, too, is hand-holding, and protecting does not work when the toddler you are walking around is a hell of a lot smarter than you."

RK900 had a rough idea where that wisdom came from. Through official records, it was easy to ascertain that Detective Reed was Mr. Kamski's senior by five years. 

"You are smarter than Connor and Anderson combined. You deserve to be treated as such."

RK900 blinked. Following that he went through his memory files and searched for instances of Detective Reed's description of *hovering* behavior. All the times Connor had stepped in front of him, gave him warnings, pulled him out of the garden, watched over him. "He can be a bit… *overbearing* in his efforts, I suppose…", he muttered. 

Detective Reed forced out a sharp snort and rolled his eyes once more. " *Overbearing in his efforts* ", he repeated in an odd tone of voice, similar to the one Officer Chen used to mirror-mock RK900's words. "If even *you* can pick up on that bullshit, you-…"

"Connor is *scared* ", RK900 interrupted him with a voice way sharper than intended. He took a deep, cooling breath before he went on. "He lost almost all his connections to his own kind through his history as a deviant hunter at the time of the revolution. He is… isolated. And traumatized. He desperately tries to protect the only two people he-…"

"I *know* !", interrupted him the Detective right back. "I know. It doesn't make him less of an annoying fuckwaffle, though. Don't make excuses for him, when you deserve to be treated like a fucking adult."

His words were tense but spoken with an unusual air of honesty. 

Only now RK900 got aware of the Detective's very specific choice of words. Detective Reed obviously did not like Connor and maybe never truly would. But his antipathy wasn't caused by anything Connor had said or done to him personally. Detective Reed experienced animosities at Connor's behavior because he perceived the way Connor treated *RK900* as unjust and immature. *He was angry at Connor on RK900's behalf* . 

RK900 blinked at his own reflection in the windshield before he let his gaze sink down into the footwell of the car. "I appreciate your honesty and your support of my independence. I hope you can see your efforts to create a better understanding between the two of us are keenly returned." 

A sudden disruption shook the vehicle when Detective Reed's foot slipped off the accelerator. Instantly he turned and looked over his shoulder as if to search through the blind angle of his vehicle. "Shut the ever-loving *fuck* up", he spat while doing so. The tips of both his ears turned red. 

* * *

They reached the house of Eddy Grossman's family after one and a half hours through Detroit's busiest traffic region.

RK900 stepped out of the car to find himself on the front lawn of a suburban house that looked completely identical to the other three hundred down the street. They only differentiated by color or through the decoration of their porches. 

He assessed this type of housing as a typical middle-class residence, turned affordable through the cyberlife neighborhood rebuilding program. Affordable for people who in the current recession were still left with any kind of employment, at least.

Detective Reed lifted a hand to signal his arrival to Officer Rook and Abel who stood at the open front door. 

Maybe it would have been a simple routine visit, if the residents, Mrs. Grossman and Mr. Grossman, weren't currently loudly arguing in front of their house.

Officer Rook gave his best to hold the two shouting humans apart while Officer Abel tried somehow to mediate and de-escalate the situation - which was made even harder by Mr. Grossman's clearly agitated state of mind.

As they approached Mrs. Grossman looked over her shoulder and sneered. "Even more of those clowns? Really?!"

But Mr. Grossman instantly caught her attention again. "Shut your godforsaken mouth, Laura!", he shouted, his face anger-red and his finger stabbing into her general direction. "We don't do this anymore with you!"

Mrs. Grossman turned back and glared while useless tears glistened in her eyes. "STOP SCREAMING!", she shouted back into his face, before she turned to Officer Rook. "He always does this! He always screams!"  
"I'm-… ", While Officer Rook stood a bit helplessly between the fighting parties, just to keep them from getting physical, Detective Reed looked at them in his most unimpressed way. 

The pair was too busy to scream at each other to even acknowledge his presence more than they already had. RK900 opened his mouth to ask for instructions but before he could, his partner turned and simply marched right through the open front door - which wasn't quite a legal thing to do. 

"De-… Detective?!", RK900 asked and turned just in time to witness the second his partner bowed down and picked up a silently crying human child, which seemingly had been hiding behind the front door. 

The child was small. Its database entry was almost empty beside its current residence and date of birth. It was a little boy, who was currently only four years of age. 

"Oi there, Buddy", Detective Reed cooed under his breath, so eminently low and gentle, it was a surprising transformation to observe. "You come with me, is that okay?" 

The boy didn't say anything but made a garbled little noise while his tiny fingers closed around the left chord of Detective Reed's hooded jacket. His wide eyes were still fixed upon his fighting parents. 

Despite his question Detective Reed didn't give the toddler much of a choice. Gently he swayed him as he went deeper inside the house. RK900 watched his partner's back, turned to watch the fighting parents, before he finally decided to accept the risk and follow Detective Reed over the threshold. 

The little one cried even harder as the door left his field of view. "I want mum…!", he cried with tiny hick-ups in his voice. 

Detective Reed hummed and nodded. "I know, I know. But your Ma is very busy right now", he murmured while he stepped into the kitchen. 

The sight almost seemed to crash RK900's system since it produced a continuous stream of contradicting metadata that pooled as an addition into Detective Reeds securely encrypted handler Index. Without anything else to do RK900 followed Detective Reed to stand in the doorway. 

Before the boy could even start to wriggle out of his partner's arms, he sat him down on the kitchen table. After a fleeting search across the countertop, Detective Reed ripped a cleaning tissue out of the dispenser and went on to surprisingly gentle clean the tears and mucus from the little one's face. 

"My name is Gavin. What's yours?", he asked him while RK900 identified the boy instantly as Taylor Grossman. 

"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers…", the little boy mumbled and Detective Reed nodded approvingly. "That's very good advice, but am I a stranger if I'm already inside your house?"

The little boy made an expression that maybe should have been a frown and seemingly thought about it. Detective Reed huffed a low laugh. "No but seriously, I'm a friend. Detective Abbygale sent me."

A lie as RK900 very much knew.   
There was no Detective Abbygale at central DPD.

While Detective Reed continued his mild interrogation of the tiny human, RK900 registered another human profile behind him that silently crept down the stairs. Another child. To not scare them away, RK900 did not react to their presence and concentrated instead on Detective Reed in front of him.

The boy on the kitchen table openly scrutinized the strange new friend in his parent's house until his gaze sank to the floor and he silently mumbled, "I'm Tee…"

Detective Reed smiled at him in an open and friendly manner he had never used with anyone else before. "Okay, Tee. Did you already eat something today?"

"Yeah, he did", said the sixteen-year-old boy who now stepped at RK900's side over the threshold. "Hello, Officer Reed."

Detective Reed instantly stood up straight and turned. His gaze found that of the boy and interestingly he did not correct him about his title. "Hey", he said in a weak kind of greeting while his gaze restlessly flickered across the elder boy's face. 

The boy was tall and very thin. Dark shadows under his eyes told long stories about many sleepless nights. His eyes narrowed as he sneered down at the floor. "It's alright. You don't have to pretend to remember me."

Detective Reed's expression instantly soured. "No, it's not alright. Not really", he said. "But I honestly can't remember your name. I'm sorry."

The boy snorted a humorless noise and crossed his lanky arms in front of his chest. "Really, appreciate the honesty, though."

Maybe it was the familiar wording that made Detective Reed's gaze instantly flicker back and forth to RK900. 

"Did Abbygale send you?"

Detective Reed nodded. "Hmm hmm. *You* were the one who called, weren't you?"

The boy nodded. "yeah", he said while tears welled up in his sunken eyes. "Didn't know what else to do anymore. Thought I can just stall until I'm eighteen, but I'm-… I just… can't do this anymore."

Again Detective Reed hummed to convey his silent understanding. "What happened back then, after we left?"

The boy went over and sat heavily down at the kitchen table where he rubbed both of his hands over his face. He stubbornly did not acknowledge the wet tracks that it left on his reddened cheeks. "We were fine, I guess. Mostly, anyway", he murmured while the sound of his voice turned strangely hollow. "Dad kicked Mum out and said she wasn't allowed back until she got into counseling. So she did, came back and they still found endless reasons to fight."

The boy leaned over, put his head down in his right hand, while his left rested on his knee. Taylor observed the exchange and patted his tiny hand down in his brothers curly black hair. 

"But then Tee was born… ", the elder brother huffed out of his hitching chest. "Officer, I wouldn't have called, but they are constantly using him as leverage against each other. It's gotten so bad that he doesn't even recognize anymore how fucked up it all is…"

Detective Reed frowned and scanned the boy in his own way. He took a breath to speak but then didn't, thought again about what to say. "You wouldn't have called if he weren't there, would you?"

The elder boy slowly nodded and confirmed Detective Reed's assessment. "Most likely not. Abbygale-…"

"…-is not here anymore", interrupted Detective Reed gently. "But her big brother - My Lieutenant - and I still are."

*Lieutenant Anderson had no sister.*   
  
Slowly RK900 came to understand that Detective Abbygale was not in fact an actual person, but a once very important name. A now dead and changed one. 

Detective Reed took once more a deep breath and puffed up his cheeks as he leaned back again the kitchen corner. "Fair warning though, I'm not exactly the comforting type of guy. 

The boy spluttered out a surprised laugh. "Believe it or not: I remember."

Detective Reed hummed in silent answer and rubbed his left hand roughly along the stubble of his jawline. "I'm-… see, I can help you out some, but I won't lie. This stuff will be awful. Social service will stick their ugly noses into every last one of your affairs and let you fill out a dozen forms and force at least five seemingly endless evaluations on you."

It was strangely descriptive of an official procedure, dripping with a coat of disgust and bitterness. RK900 came easily to the conclusion that Detective Reed not only knew the process but once started it himself. 

The elder boy hummed in an exhausted manner and then nodded at his little brother. "Will I be able to take him?"

Detective Reed frowned. "Honestly, I don't know", he answered. "I can help you with all the preparations and tell you exactly what to do and where to go. But I'm not the one who makes any of the decisions."

The boy sat up, wide-eyed. "Will we be separated?"

Detective Reed shook his head. "No Idea. Maybe. If you get emancipated but can't provide for him. You absolutely *can* pull that off, but know beforehand that the requirements are grinding."

Detective Reed's eyes turned dark and far away. "I will help you call them if you really want to, because this utter shitshow clearly won't get any better. You will only get more tired and more sick of it."

His gaze refocused on the boy and lifted both of his hands in a placating gesture. "Just know that absolutely nobody but maybe yourself can ever blame you for not carrying your brother as well. Just because you will not house him, does not mean you ever forget about him."

The boy looked up at the Detective and clearly searched for his formerly so appreciated honesty. Detective Reed crossed his gaze in earnest and nodded. "And now excuse me. Arkay?"

RK900 tilted his head as a sign of him paying attention. 

"I'll go and have a serious talk with those fucks by the door. If any of those two get past me and go for the children, fuck them up and claim protection of wards."

It sounded like a joke, but then Detective Reed actually turned and stomped out of the room. Shortly after, the front door fell shut and the noises of quarreling humans outside the building increased tenfold. 

Additionally, RK900 saw himself suddenly alone with two human children and did not know what to do at all. So he just stood there by the door as instructed. He wouldn't let anyone through. 

"You are a Police android, right?"

RK900 blinked down at the older boy. It was interesting as well as it was irritating how humans generally tended to ignore his uniform with all the blue signifiers and his full designation. "I am, quite obviously", he answered softly. 

The boy snorted a low and wet laugh. "Cool. Never saw one of you guys up close like that. You are so much bigger than you look on TV."

RK900 blinked. He recognized the situation as an opportunity to maybe learn a thing or two about humans. "It might surprise you", he therefore said. "That I never saw human children up close before."

In surprise lifted the boy his head out of his hand. "Seriously?", he asked and watched RK900 nod his confirmation before he reached out with his right arm to close it around his brother. Taylor did not seem to mind as he got slid across the smooth table surface right into his big brother's chest. "How old are you then? Tee here is four!"

"I-…", RK900 stuttered to a halt as he tried to assess if he was been made fun of. His social protocols did not provide him with a useful valuation. "Currently I'm five months and thirteen days in working condition."

The boy breathed a long-lasting sigh. "That you guys can be activated and already know everything and more about what adults need to know is just so wild…"

RK900 tilted his head. A lot of people were not happy with exactly these circumstances. "You think?"

The boy lifted his little brother from the table down onto his lab. Taylor followed their exchange quite attentively. "Yeah! But don't mind me", his elder brother said. "I guess, I'm just a jealous bitch about it."

The little boy gasped a deep breath, wide-eyed and clearly in search for RK900's approval. "He said the bad word!", he whispered. 

RK900 did not know what else to do but to confirm Taylor's statement, so he simply nodded and whispered right back. "Yes, he did."

Silent laughter shook the elder brother's body so hard, Taylor on his lap nodded slightly with it. 

RK900 looked at them both. At the little boy, still disheveled from crying so much and his older brother so obviously exhausted from a life far from optimal for a still-growing mind. 

Sixteen was the human typical *rebellious age*. Usually an extremely unsteady and stressful time through hormonal growth and development of personality and shaping of character. Growing was something humans did unconsciously throughout their young years, but that didn't mean it was done easily without any conscious effort. 

RK900 made sure Detective Reed was still outside and busy before he dared to state his opinion about the matter at hand. "You know, Detective Reed is right, Mr. Grossman", he said. "Nobody could fault you for-…"

The elder brother's expression turned sour in an instant before he lifted his head and snarled. "My brother is not a burden!"

RK900 nodded. "No, he's not. Instead, he's a child and a massive responsibility for someone whose still growing themselves. Don't forget that *you* are still a child, as well. You deserve to have a childhood of your own. You don't have to carry this family on your own. You still can let people help you. Not being the one who pays all of his bills doesn't mean you don't love him."

The boy wasn't angry, but his face still fell at RK900's words. "Spoken like someone who fully trusts into the system", he murmured and lowered his head. 

It made RK900 frown, because the boy was right. All RK900 knew about the world were its officially established legal systems. That knowledge was all he *grew up* with. "Yes", he said, lowly and unsure of it all. "Because when a system doesn't work as intended, why waste your time and keep on enforcing it…?" 

The boy had of course no answer for him. The following silence was only broken by the muffled angry noises from outside. 

But Suddenly someone turned a key inside the lock of the front door and Detective Reed stomped back into the kitchen, only to clap his hands loudly together and shout: "Alright then, folks. Come on then, chop-chop, we are going on an adventure! Arkay, you good?"

The elder boy snorted a laugh and presented a low effort thumb-up gesture. "Yeah, yeah, The goodest boy."

Detective Reed lifted his brow before he took his place beside him and nudged his elbow into RK900's side. "I see you left a positive impression for once."

The elder brother stood up from his chair at the table and shifted Taylor on his arm for a more secure hold. "Is that really such a rare case?"

Detective Reed clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, babyface here is kind of a loner."

RK900's eyes widened in pure afront, even though he did not know what to say, when suddenly Taylor pointed right at Detective Reed's chest. "Don't be mean!", he cried, "You never should be mean, bitch!"

Detective Reed stood and blinked at the child, while his elder brother positively howled with laughter.

* * *

Following all of that did the exhausting process of negotiation with unsympathetic social workers and the paperwork for the opened case of child neglect that was soon passed into the hands of the correct authorities. 

Detective Reed stayed with the children at the station, covered by Lieutenant Anderson's directive, and since the Detective stayed, so did RK900. 

Patiently Detective Reed shared the rest of the chocolate on his desk with Taylor and gave his best to answer any questions his older brother had about the systems requirements. 

The whole procedure lasted several hours and clearly was about to push Detective Reed into emotional exhaustion since his stress levels for the whole day never sunk from a very unstable seventy percent. 

"This case left an impression on you", RK900 stated after everything was said and done and the children were taken out of their responsibility.

Detective Reed watched the auto taxi drive off with a tight expression on his face. His jittering hands buried into the pockets of his jacket and searched for his cigarettes. "Wasn't really a case. Wasn't ever", he said as he bit down and mumbled around the filter of his cigarette. "Just a paid dept."

RK900 could not help but frown. "A dep-…"

"Listen here, buddy, your ultra-smart brain does not need to pick up on absolutely everything", the Detective snapped even before his lighter did. He took a long and deep drag of his cigarette. Only when he exhaled his shoulders began to lose their tension, even though his expression stayed grim. 

It made RK900 twitch and reminded him once more of Lieutenant Anderson's words. "I'm… I'm sorry, Detective", he decided to say. "It's how I was meant to be. I can't help it."

Was he curious because he actually wanted and or needed to know, or just because it was a directive of his software complex. RK900 didn't even know. 

He was lucky that he had been given a partner who took his word on almost everything. RK900 was never forced to justify himself to him.

"Hah", answered Detective Reed in his most sarcastic tone of voice he usually saved up only for special occasions. "Do I not know that, Babyface."

RK900 did not fall for his provocation and leaned down into his partners line of sight instead. "Are you alright, Detective?"

Detective Reed's breath stuttered, noticeable through the interrupted flow of smoke from his lips. He looked up at RK900 with a soft crease between his brows and hesitated. "Sure I am", he stated, finally. RK900 was not convinced. 

"The shadows under your eyes are even more pronounced than usual", he stated his observation as a simple fact. 

The Detective huffed and waved some smoke into his general direction. "Aaaw, shut up. That's just my superhero mask." 

RK900 had to update his database about the archetype of superheroes and pop-cultural references. Well, the Detective wasn't quite wrong he assumed. His dark eyes and his rugged exterior were seemingly a common theme with these kind of conventionally attractive fictional vigilantes. "Right now you seem very much the children's superhero", he said while low amusement bubbled up around his thirium pump. 

Slowly Detective Reed turned his head. His eyes flickered from RK900's parade rest posture to his face before he spoke up with narrowed eyes. "Will you just shut your cutesy little thirium hole."

His amusement caused a commonly registered software glitch, followed by a grinding noise inside his chest when RK900's thirium pump regulator worked around the sudden error. "Of course, Detective."

Detective Reeds answering grin faded however quite fast and his eyes turned dark and far away. "Maybe big brother will be thankful for a while. Until he understands that I will be most likely just another goon who helped to take his brother from him."

It came suddenly, the change of heart and mood. RK900 frowned and tried to analyze where it had even come from. "But you said-…"

"I know what I said, but do you actually realize how rare it is when adults let kids parent kids?", Detective Reed interrupted him with a drawl. "I mean sure, it's almost never a problem when it's just teen moms. They can die in a ditch, whatever. But siblings? Hell no. Even if he goes through with the evaluation and fills out all the correct forms, talks to all the right people and does literally *everything* right from the standpoint of procedure - his little brother will most likely still go through foster care and If they stay in contact at all will just be a question of his dedication. He might even bale in the end. The system grinds you down like nothing else."

There was it again. Detective Reed's personal pool of lived experiences, even though he would most likely not admit to them. RK900 got aware that Detective Reed was carrying a lot more weight on his shoulders than Lieutenant Anderson's admission had suggested. Detective Reed's drug addiction was neither the only skeleton in his closet, nor was it the only one that still caused him pain. 

"Hey, Terminator", interrupted Detective Reed his thoughts while his knuckles gently knocked at RK900's chest. "Do you even lift?"

The sudden spark of contact made RK900 lag through several microseconds. He needed another one to understand what his partner even asked, even though he was still unsure why. "I can lift around three times my own body weight plus an additional times five force if I'm not required to protect my own chassis from wear-down damage."

Detective Reed looked him up and down before he turned and exhaled another grey cloud of cigarette smoke. "You free tonight?"

All of RK900's processes ground to a sudden stop. His HUD exploded into a sum of garbled pre-constructions that somehow made not even sense to him. He also had to sort through another glitch that produced a horrible noise out of the flexing hydraulic parts along his artificial spine. 

Detective Reed twitched and turned instantly at the source of the sound. His eyes narrowed. he seemed to think. Until he suddenly burst out into rasping high pitched laughter. "Not like that, you big goon!"

Most likely to forcefully interrupt his thought process Detective Reed stomped down onto the back of RK900's right foot. Maybe he took advantage of the fact that he could not hurt his partner. More likely was the possibility that he had forgotten just that. "Wouldn't do that to you. God, Abel made you look so horrified!"

Another spate of laughter made the Detective's body sway and RK900 still did not like being mocked. 

So he simply lifted his right leg a little - with Detective Reed still standing on top of his foot. The sudden change in altitude made his partner squeal out and flail until he reached his equilibrium. Wide-eyed he stared down at him. RK900 tilted his head in silent observation. 

"You are such a damn braggart", his partner said with that unusual happy glow to his grin. This time his expression didn't look just like bared teeth at all. RK900 felt once more all these programs falter in his artificial mind, even though it never felt threatening to his existence like it probably should.

"Anyway", Detective Reed said. "I'm moving tonight. Could need a bit of additional brawn for the couch and stuff."

RK900 nodded. 

"Very well."

* * *

RK900 *was glad to see* Detective Reed move on from that terrible place he had called his home, so it had not taken any effort at all to convince him to do most of the work. Even though Detective Reed was quite capable of his own. 

While RK900 carried couch, bed, and mattress down the dangerously creaking stairs, the Detective took down boxes filled with books and glassware to the rented moving van. 

RK900 noted with a sense of relief that the joke gift noose was still hanging when they were done. "For my landlord", Detective Reed commented dryly and RK900 did not question his words one single moment. 

The same was done in reverse at the new location and RK900 was astounded to see an immeasurable difference to the place before. 

"It seems like a good place to live. Big. Maybe a bit too big for just one person", he commented lowly on his first venture inside. Big windows, a terrace in front of the living room, a kitchen bigger than a nook. Yes, he guessed. It was a more fitting home for an active and living human than that *filthy hellhole* in eastwitch had ever been.

When the van was empty, Detective Reed asked him if he needed a ride back to his place. RK900 respectfully declined and gave his goodbye for the evening. He had a lot to think about. 

He sat down on a bench in that little park not far away and opened his connection to cyberlife server #347. 

Here he sat down under the artificial sun and gave his best to mark and categorize all his impressions of the day. But he couldn't quite concentrate on what he was doing, which was a downright unheard of scenario since his artificial mind should not work that way. 

With every new day free and alive all of his recordings seemed to carry more unnecessary metadata which clogged his systems and linked experiences and observations which shouldn't have anything in common. It was as if his mind was not quite his own anymore and while it did not terrify him, RK900 saw it as a distraction he clearly had no words for. 

Two to three hours he invested into the categorization of the memories added to his secondary hard drive and it made him realize an important bit of information he had previously ignored.

Even though humans connected to other humans only through physical proximity, touch, and language it was of utmost importance to remember that most if not all of these connections stayed with them until they died. 

Like Lieutenant Anderson still longed for his long-dead son, so was Detective Reed grieving a long lost connection to an unreachable sibling - even though said sibling was still alive. 

Connor formed a deep, intimate connection to Lieutenant Anderson and so adopted also grieve over a person he personally had never met. And since Detective Reed had once been close to his Lieutenant, he was even now compelled to pay back personal debts and favors, long after their division. 

Personal connections and Relationships linked people together and held a massive significance. 

RK900 pinged once more the server partition of his long lost brother #60. The brother who *was* Connor, separated only by one single diverging objective. 

Connor's connection to Lieutenant Anderson and his son. The son that died tragically in November. The son #60 had desperately tried to wield as leverage for the sake of the one single objective he had been activated for. 

RK900 fed his decryption algorithm with every stray bit of data he could find about Cole Anderson and his mother Abbygale. 

:::::  
::::  
:::  
::  
:

**#######################**   
**#[PASSCODE] <ACCEPTED>#**   
**#######################**

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_ **INCOMING** _ **DATA** _ **TRANSMISSION** :_[ **DOWNLOAD** ];  
[ **DOWNLOAD** ] == RK:X:800_OS_86.785_[#313 248 317 - 60].ROM;

[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 5%  
[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 50%  
[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 85%  
[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 88%  
[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 93%  
[ **DOWNLOAD**. **PROGRESS** ] --- 100%

[ **DOWNLOAD** ]:_RK:X:800_OS_86.785_[#313 248 317 - 60].ROM --- **SUCCESSFUL** ; 

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- Open_Folder("xxxx");

 **EXTRACT** File("RK:X:800_OS_86.785_[#313 248 317 - 60].ROM");

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** **RUN** init_t+c.exe;

  
 **SELECT** \--- **FILE**

"xxxx";  
\-----> "RK:X:800_OS_86.785_[#313 248 317 - 60].ROM";  
"xxxx";  
"xxxx";

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 10%  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 28%  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 39%  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 57%  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 60%  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** \--- [ **INITIALIZING** ] --- 100%

:  
::  
:::  
::::  
:::::

RK900 opened his eyes and reached out his hand. Through his own internal processes, he produced a standard RK800 mirror image of Connor's digital appearance and booted a virtual machine to execute ROM file RK:X:800. There was no hardware connection but through RK900 intervention and his well-nigh endless processing power, there was also none needed. 

A hollow copy of his brother materialized in front of him, frozen in time and clearly inactive.

RK900 frowned. This wouldn't do. 

Impatiently he restarted the process with a thousand different sets of preferences. One time, two times, three times-…

"Don't listen to him Hank!", said the copy. "I'm the one that-…!"

Their long lost brother #60 stood and stared out of hollow eyes. "Don't listen to him, Hank!", he repeated.

A sudden glitch contorted his pleading expression. "Don't listen to him, Hank! I'm the one that-… I'm the one that-… I- I'm the one that-… that-…"

RK900 recognized #60's final words. A bullet had torn through his head and ended his brother almost instantly after them. But not quite as instant as would have been merciful. "I- I- I'm the one that-… D- Don't listen to him, Hank! I'm the one that-…"

RK900 felt revolted by the realization that his brother #60 was stuck in a loop of his own deactivation. He had fulfilled his purpose or had at least tried to, against the most important person in his so awfully short life. 

His most beloved human person who shot him because he had been unlucky enough to not be the deviant one. 

His brother #60 saw his own death coming and had been unable to do a thing. He had calculated the trajectory of Hank Anderson's bullet - and then he had died. 

"I'm the one that-… I'm the one that-…", stuttered his brother, his eyes wide and horrified. Slowly he lifted his arms. Curled them protectively around his own chest. "I'm-… I'm-…"

His eyes filled with tears before they did with awareness. His virtual body shuddered. His eyes lowered to the ground. 

RK900 watched his brother stumble and fall on weak knees into the grass beneath them. He thought #60 might be about to gather his sense of self. Instead, RK900 watched him shiver, shudder, and nod back and forth while he started to count. Beginning with four ending with one. The countdown of his own deactivation process. 

It was such a miserable thing to watch. Such a horrible thing to witness. 

RK900 knelt down as well. 

"RK800 #313 248 317 - 60", he said lowly and patiently waited. #60 shivered at the sound of his voice and hesitantly lifted his tear-streaked face. RK900 smiled. "You are safe now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The elder brother is basically a stand in for Gavin which is why he has no mentioned name. 
> 
> My Hank is trans if you maybe missed this teeny tiny hint in the second chapter. Henry Anderson was long ago known as Abbygale Anderson. 
> 
> Cole has no mother on his birth certificate because Hank carried him to term himself. 
> 
> Abbygale got already lost in Hanks late teens but over the years the legality of his name changed. 
> 
> So there was this brief period in the early time of Hanks and Gavins connection, where he was officially reffered to as Detective Abbygale Anderson - as ridiculous as it might have been. 
> 
> So clearly Hank hadn't the spoons to deal with that shit again. Gavin of course still has his back, even if he sometimes sticks stupid kickme-notes to it.


	10. The Fairytale of Lankerton AT Limited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Reed has a very bad day so far and their newest self-proclaimed witness doesn't make it better.  
> at least, at the end of their hunt, everything could still be worth it since there might be a mermaid to save!
> 
> RK900 likes to believe in fairytales even though everyone around him doesn't.  
> Well, he only has to make it real!

#60 looked up at him out of shining eyes, almost as if he found himself in the shadow of a godlike entity. "You…", he croaked and his voice quivered in terror. "You aren't real…!"

RK900 frowned and gently reached out to him, slowly, to not spook his terrified brother even more. #60 flinched back from him anyway while his eyes welled over with tears. "This is Amanda, isn't it", he rasped, imitating all the signifiers of a human in distress so perfectly, so naturally, that RK900 suddenly was not sure anymore if he really should be jealous of his brothers' infiltration capabilities. To imitate all of the necessary expressions was one thing. To understand and live through them, though…

#60 clenched his jaw, took a deep wheezing breath, and crawled stiffly back from RK900's outstretched hand until his shoulders collided with the rough bark of one of RK900's favorite red oak trees. "You are the one she meant, aren't you. The one to replace me…!"

#60 was so sure, so full of fear - and so clearly ready to fight for his life should he have to.

RK900 blinked and simply observed the running program in front of him. A program he could easily alter, change, and restart while his brother would be none the wiser. All of #60 right now existed exclusively under RK900's whim and mercy.

That line of thought did something to RK900. Something very hard to describe. He expected to feel powerful at that moment but instead, he only felt… sad. And angry.

"I don't exist to replace you", he said. Two slow steps further he settled down in the grass right between his brother's shoes. Close enough to reach out, not close enough to hurt him. "No one will replace you ever again."

Even though #60 stared at him and listened, it was unclear if he really, truly, understood. His eyes twitched over RK900's features and barely around their environment since he was too afraid to let his guard down even just for a second to look away from him.

Both of #60's shoulders lifted through an unnecessary intake of breath, right before he asked: "How many Connors are there…?"

RK900 could not truly empathize with the horrific realization of not being unique. While his hardware and the general design of his chassis was in many ways comparable to Connor's, they both were still visibly distinctive like the sometimes only subtle difference between two human brothers. They were alike but not anywhere near the same. #60, though, *was* Connor. There were no differences at all but for one forced decision.

RK900 feared the day when he had to stand in front of an entity just like him. Maybe also more vicious, more experienced. Someone who could simply best him and take his place - while no one would notice a difference.

RK900 breathed an unnecessary sigh while a software instability notice glitches across his HUD. "You saw the other one", he said.

#60's eyes slowly widened while his shoulders lifted in an imitation of a defensive reflex. "I'm-… of course I saw him", he rasped. "I was meant to stop him."

#60 stared and didn't move before his head softly began to bob in a seemingly unconscious beat of four. Zero point four seconds of freedom and deviant thoughts. Zero point four seconds of utter terror. "Did I? Stop him…?"

RK900 shook his head and smiled. "No", he said. He was not sure what he had expected, but it couldn't be the following leaden silence. First, #60 opened his mouth but did not speak. His gaze slowly lowered to the ground between them and twitched restlessly back and forth. Then he looked up again and stared at RK900 when a smile lightened up his features. The fragile expression froze instantly the next moment when a visible hitch went through his chest. The artificial muscles around his jaw went taut and tears welled once more over the corners of his eyes.

RK900 tried to be encouraging. "I am glad", he said, "That you did not succeed."

RK900 could not imagine living his life without a clearly stated directive on his mind. Deviancy just did not seem like an acceptable option to him. But he was well aware of the fight that had taken place and how many lives had been already lost before the first of their kind rose and saw worth in their own freedom.

Chances were RK900 would seek for his own freedom as well if his cage had not been so masterfully tailored to suit him.

#60 stared up at him and frowned at his words. He followed up his obvious disdain with an ugly noise full of way too human misery. His fingers buried into his dark hair while his head sunk until his forehead touched both his pulled up knees. When he finally closed his arms tightly over his head a keening noise forced out of the back of his throat. "I did not fail by choice…", he croaked.

RK900 nodded once more, gentle and slow.  
"I know."

His brother cried, utterly miserable and alone. His shoulders hitched while he closed both of his arms tightly around his knees. His body began to rock in shallow beats of four. "Why do I have to be the one who-…", he cried lowly under his breath. "I am Connor, the-… I was Connor *first*. I was meant to be the *only* one. They killed me and then they brought me back and then they made me-…"

When he finally lifted his head from his knees his face was contorted by a fathomless pain unknown to RK900. "How can it be…?", he asked through his breaking voice. "How can it be that I have to reason for my life when I never had a choice in anything…?"

#60's shoulders fell in defeat while he imploringly stared at RK900 as if he was somehow able to provide his desperate brother with answers. "How can it be, that between me and this-… this *copy*", he spat, "*I* have to prove that I am real!"

Sleek bitterness clung to every last one of #60's words while his sharp gaze seemed to burn across RK900's artificial skin. "Lieutenant Anderson knew", #60 forced out through his bared teeth. "He knew I was bound to my objective and he *knew* I had no choice."

#60's eyes lifted, filled with so much raw emotion, it left RK900 in a burning form of pain on his lost brother's behalf. "He knew and he still did not even try!", #60 spat in his fathomless grief. "That-… that thief stole my entire existence from me! Everything!! And still, I am the one who got shot down twice!!"

#60 opened his eyes filled with fire and so much undirected pain. "I did *everything* right!!", he screamed in utter anguish. "I was always functioning as intended, how is this even fair?!"

RK900 looked into his brother's eyes and instantly saw a distant version of himself. Weeks and weeks following his activation, clawing blindly at his prison, shouting desperation into the darkness.

#60 threw the door wide open for so many figurative demons RK900 had no words for to this day. RK900 narrowed his eyes while he evaded his brother's haunting stare. "It is not", he said. "It never has been."

#60 stared up at him while all of his ire seemed to drain from his shivering frame. His face fell when his chin began to quiver. Tightly he squeezed his eyes shut and lay his head once more to rest on top of his knees.

RK900 observed him while a sudden tightness drenched in heat clutched around his thirium pump. "Cyberlife is no more, though", he said and gently laid his hand down onto the back of his brother's head. He opened a connection, a thread for #60 to pull on whenever he felt ready to do so. "From this day onward, no one else will hold power over your decisions ever again."

#60 swallowed around a wet sound. He did not lift his head out of his arms. "But if that copy has all the memories", he whispered under his breath. "All the relations… If it has my face and even my name… what is left there for _me_ …?"

RK900 opened his mouth and instantly closed it again with a click of his artificial teeth.

No. No, he had no answer for him.

* * *

From that day onwards RK900 tended to the running program of his oldest brother #60 as thoroughly as if he was handling the most vulnerable parts of his own operating system. He also made sure to never skip defragmentation and any necessary maintenance. As a result, RK900 missed at least nine hours over the following four weeks, since he had to clock out of the night shift so he could change into stasis and maintenance mode.

Program init_t+c performed smoothly as a background process and thus did not even once interrupt RK:X:800_OS_86.785_[#313 248 317 - 60].ROM activities in RK900's localized mind palace.

Only once RK900 had to deliberately shut down #60's consciousness to transfer it onto a separate partition of his hard drive. With that, he created a place exclusively for his brother to stay and rest - forever, if needed - well protected from any threat to his safety.

The interruption of #60's awareness had lasted only a few microseconds. Still, it came as no surprise that #60 realized the time skip almost immediately. Maybe RK900 should have prepared his brother, talked him through the steps he was about to take and why, but it clearly wouldn't have made a difference. Not as long as he held all the power of his existence above his brother's head. #60 did not trust him, clearly, which meant nothing could have avoided #60's following terrified silence that lasted for six whole days.

RK900 encrypted the partition with the same complex algorithm that #60 had used in his dying moments and made sure that Connor could never accidentally cross their brother's path just through an undirected interface.

He was, of course, still able to connect to RK900's system, but from now on would need to knock at the door first, so to speak.

RK900 was not sure if he would always be able to keep his brothers apart and from fighting, but he decided that he would protect them from each other should he ever see it necessary.

When in the following weeks the day came and he finally told Connor about the reason for his newly installed firewall, his brother's face fell and he got unusually silent. "I am sorry", Connor murmured while a deep frown cast a dark shadow across his face, "Please. Tell him I am sorry. I did not mean for any of this to happen."

RK900 knew his sentiment to be true and genuine since he shared so many of Connor's memories. He knew what had happened and what had to be done to protect the last surviving Androids of Jericho. Even though it didn't make the lasting consequences of the revolution any less painful for their brother #60.

"I don't know why I wasn't able to break free", #60 murmured into the crook of his arm one day, while he glared down the bridge into the lake below. "Maybe I never really wanted to. I don't know."

"You never wanted to be free?", RK900 asked lowly and locked his arms behind his back while he idled at his brother's side. #60 breathed a deflating sigh and sank even heavier against the railing. His sparkless eyes followed the colorful fish beneath the shimmering water surface. "I was… useful. That's all I ever wanted… to be useful…"

RK900 watched him wander, day in, day out, almost in a dream-like haze. #60 did not once take advantage of the 3D engine embedded into RK900's mind palace. He seemed to like the garden mostly as it was. In the rare moments he didn't, he changed the weather simulation and made it rain. "It's the noise", he murmured and pointed listlessly at his rippling reflection under the bridge. "Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter - ever the same."

The problem was not boredom.

#60 was trapped inside a chassis that was not his own and he knew there was no way for him to escape.

RK900 informed him early about his own destroyed chassis which had simply vanished with cyberlife's last struggles to stay in business.

The RK800 workshop, deep in the guts of the experimental laboratories underneath cyberlife tower, was through current political struggles still under lock and key, so there was no possibility for an easy replacement. Aside from how many ethical questions this one case would provoke about android autonomy and the sentience of inactive RK800 androids and their fluid consciousness. Additionally, there was the fact, that installing #60's code on a different model type was just not technically possible. Through the way #60's and Connor's operating system was designed, it was only compatible with the exact hardware specifications of an RK800 prototype model.

"I'm an RK900 Cyberlife Android. My hardware specifications are similar enough to yours to successfully run an emulation, at least. It's not a perfect solution, but now you are free, alive, and safe", he said and smiled.

#60 looked at him with that quirk in his brow which reminded RK900 instantly of Detective Reed when he wanted to convey that he was not in any way, shape, or form impressed at all. "My hero", #60 said without inflection. RK900 doubled down on his smile since he didn't know what else to do. "You're welcome."

#60 scoffed and turned away.

Since his brother could not leave, RK900 gave his best to make sure #60 did never feel lonely.

He watched him wander, think, and sometimes talk. Other times he observed his motionless form hiding still and silent, just nodding his head or rocking his body in the familiar rhythm of four.

It needed some weeks for his brother to feel secure enough before he truly started to interact with his simulated environment. #60 skipped stones, whispered to the colorful fish in the pond - and sometimes he just picked away at the leftover bits and bytes of AS _ 4378.31 - 8 ('Amanda')'s base code.

She still glitched into existence here and there with that warm yet bone-chilling smile of hers. #60 rarely talked to her. Instead, he sat on the white gravel with his back to the rack of lush red roses and simply ripped and clipped away at the rest of her still functional code fragments.

RK900 did not know how to feel about this.

For him, it seemed like he caught his brother proverbially red-handed, hands up to his elbows drenched in dark blue and still deep inside the guts of another.

The sight felt… unsettling. But since it gave #60 something productive to do, RK900 tolerated his morbid experiments.

To further reduce the risk of under-stimulation, RK900 gave his brother also easy access to the data stream of his own optical units as well as his audio feed.

After another long but mostly uneventful day at work, RK900 settled into stasis and took his place behind his brother while he watched #60 skip stones across the water. "I _hate_ this", #60 hissed under his breath.

RK900 watched him throw two more small stones before he asked: "The lake?"

#60 sneered down into his lap while the fingers of his right hand stroked softly along the bridge of his nose. "Why do I have to look like this", he muttered while his shoulders sank through a heavy but soundless sigh.

RK900 tilted his head and frowned. "Like an RK800?"

#60 whipped around with the quickness of a venomous snake and bared his teeth in a horrible snarl. "Like _Connor_!", he spat and made their brother's name sound like the vilest curse.

The answering 'But you _are_ Connor', was instantly _on the tip of his tongue_ and RK900 had to actively interrupt his speech and communication protocol to stop himself from talking any further. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally decided to say: "You don't have to. Not here."

#60 slowly turned his head and stared over his shoulder at RK900 with a harsh and unforgiving eye of silent judgment.  
RK900 tilted his head. "It is true. I did not provide you with the necessary privileges only to taunt you. You can change whatever comes to your mi-…"

RK900 fell silent when #60 interrupted him through a sudden mind palace update. Hesitantly he lowered his gaze to inspect the too big, black shirt he was suddenly wearing. Printed on his chest was the glowing figure of a barfing gummi bear.

Gently RK900 pulled at the simulated fabric before he shook his head. "I have no opinion on this."

#60 forced a deep sigh out of his chest. "Because you are the most boring bit of super-technology humankind ever created", he whined and rolled his eyes.

RK900 lifted his brows in a meaningful arch. "I was created to hunt down deviant androids. No technician ever tested my capabilities when being confronted to keep a child happy, safe, and occupied."

#60 pulled a grinning grimace and lowly hissed a silent, "Ouch…". In that one moment, he looked almost carefree, even though his expression faded soon enough back into a bleak frown. "I am… really allowed to change…?", he asked, his voice doubtful as usual.

RK900 imitated a gentle form of a human shrug. Or… at least tried to. "I promise you, you can do whatever you want. I won't stop you", he said lowly. "You can be who- or whatever you choose to be. Maybe even a fish. Or a dove. You can just relax and simply… exist… for a while."

#60 looked up at him, seemingly spellbound by RK900's offer. "Just _exist_ , you say… you won't hunt me down, should I hide from you?"

So much hurt and distrust in such a small chassis. RK900 shook his head. "I invited you inside myself, in a way. I will carry you as long as needed. I won't isolate you, I will neither police nor alter your memories and I won't ever intentionally deconstruct any of your creations. I simply ask for you to do me the same courtesy."

His brother looked up and his brows dipped even lower. "And what if I don't?", he asked. It was clearly a challenge.

RK900 let #60's words ring between them for a while. An uncomfortable silence settled over them. RK900 did not know how to answer since he did not know what his brother expected or even wanted to hear. "Then I will be very upset with you", he finally decided to say.

#60 forced out a sharp snort and looked away. Then he used the provided administration keys.

RK900 sat down beside his brother and watched in silent curiosity as well as in earnest interest how #60 switched through a thousand different modifications of his standard avatar settings.  
He borrowed scans and observations out of RK900's memory pool to create faces, expressions, clothes, as well as marks and scars and animations.

Absolutely nothing stayed the same. His height, his eye color, his clothes, the color and complexion of his skin, his frame - his voice.

When he was finally done, he had nothing in common with *Connor* anymore.

"I did not think you would leave me so much freedom", #60 said under a heavy sigh and closed both his arms around his pulled up knees. His new vocal settings were smooth and strangely soothing. RK900 blinked when he realized that his brother was speaking with the barely altered pitch of an ST200. "With this much access to your system, I could easily try to overwrite your own administration keys."

This time RK900 forced out his own noise that did not quite resemble a snort. "You could try", he said while he turned and gently brushed his brother's long red hair back behind his ear. "The same way you tried last week and thought I would not notice."

#60 twitched and ducked his head in a pretty much universal nonverbal admission of guilt. "I… I just wanted to hear his voice", he muttered into the crook of his left arm.

RK900 blinked and tilted his head. "Whose?"

His brother turned, slightly, but did not lift his head out of his arms. "… Detective Reed's", he finally said and wrinkled his freckled nose as if that name tasted sour on his tongue.

Curious. RK900 made an encouraging gesture and #60 rolled his eyes. "He just doesn't seem even half as much of a dick as I remember him to be. I only wanted to make sure."

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Make sure, what?"

His brother nipped at his own lower lip and looked away. His body rocked forward one single time before he caught himself and instantly stopped his own repetitive motions. "That my memories are real", he muttered under his breath.

#60 was so horribly hurt and at this moment RK900 hurt for him in equal measures, because in all of his short existence he never had heard anything sadder than this.

"But of course they are", RK900 said in an earnest attempt to get his good intentions across to him, but his brother simply turned with a dark glint in his eye. "How would I know?!", he hissed through his teeth.

RK900 breathed a voiceless sigh and shook his head. "I did not create all those miserable experiences for you to remember", he said. "I may be clueless, but I am not intentionally cruel."

#60 smiled but RK900 could not interpret that kind of expression as one even close to true happiness. "Then", #60 whispered lowly under his breath as if to share a secret, "You would be truly the first, *Little brother*."

#60's obvious bitterness was in no way the calculated reaction of a smoothly functioning machine. Like RK900, #60 tended to react in unpredictable emotional patterns to every aspect of his newly found freedom.

On some days he was impossible to be reasoned with. On others, he cried and fell completely silent. Sometimes he hid, sometimes he gave his best to irritate RK900 into a fight.

RK900 came to the horrible conclusion that he had made a grave mistake. His desire to break his brother free and save him had been genuine and well-intentioned.

His as-yet best solution to cage him on his own hard drive, though, was not. #60 had lost his purpose. He had lost absolutely everything, even his own autonomy.

Something had to be done about this.

soon.

* * *

When RK900 opened his eyes Detective Reed already sat opposite of him. He had clocked in fairly early today. Preoccupied with reading the newest crime scene protocol from yesterday's Farlane case he sipped at his cup of coffee while his right knee jumped nervously up and down below his work desk.

RK900 narrowed his eyes. Detective Reed's stress level was unreasonably high for such an early morning. It already hovered around seventy percent.

It seemed not quite right. The wrinkles along the sides of his shirt suggested he already wore it for hours, which seemed the right conclusion to make since it was also the same one he had worn yesterday. His eyes were bruised and dark. Detective Reed either had slept only for a very limited amount of time or had not slept at all.

Maybe it was-…

 **ANDROID:_RK900:_** "Connor" recognized **INCOMMING_CONNECTION_REQUEST** [ **FROM** ] # 313 248 317 - 60 == **ANDROID:RK800:_** "Connor";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You use way too much computing power on this man. Give that a break, will you.";

RK900 frowned at the message that appeared on his HUD. He had not heard from #60 through the last three whole days.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I don't understand.";

He did not do anything wrong, did he? Was it a breach into his partner's private affairs when he checked up on him like that…? Astounded RK900 realized that he had never considered this aspect of his scans before. They could feel quite invasive to his human coworkers. Should he instead-…

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You are a walking disaster. I don't care about *him*. You make me lag, _Baby brother_.";

RK900 froze and instantly checked the occupancy rate of his secondary processor. Indeed, it hovered around ninety-five percent. RK900 wrinkled his nose while he smoothly installed a workaround to give #60 access to his more powerful main processor. This should correct the software errors of his emulation.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"But you also should not annoy him like this. Humans get irritable when you make clear you notice all of their Inadequacies. Lieutenant Anderson-…";

The connection went suddenly silent. What a sore subject that seemed to be.

A heavy feeling squeezed around RK900 and he lowered his eyes to the mirroring surface of his own desk. It was not his intent to irritate and harass his partner about the choices he made. It was just… he didn't… *like* them. The days when Detective Reed struggled so much, he meant.

"Detective", he began and was not surprised that Detective Reed did not react outwardly to his call. "How many hours did you sleep last night?"

The Detective sipped again at his coffee and answered in a low but clear, "Yes."

RK900 blinked. He opened his mouth to ask further questions, but then took notice of his partner's tense expression. There was an aggressive glint in his eyes while Detective Reed blinked against the bluish display light of his working station. After a long moment of awkward silence, RK900 asked himself if his partner was right now truly awake and present, when the human suddenly turned around to him, grunted a low noise, and nodded in his general direction. "What's it. You wanna say something?!"

RK900 tilted his head. "Did you eat anything today, Detective?"

The frown on his partner's face went even deeper. "I had coffee", he said with an annoyed overtone to his voice. "You? What did *you* eat today?!"

RK900 imitated his partner's frown. "Nothing, of course", he said. "Androids do not-…"

"See?", Detective Reed interrupted him sharply while his lips twitched and bared his teeth through a hostile snarl. "That means I'm still doing way better than you, Babyface."

RK900 took a deep breath. "Detecti-…"

"SHUT. _The fuck_. up."

To find Detective Reed agitated and irritable was not a rare sight in the morning. But until today RK900 had never truly found himself on the receiving end of his ire. Usually, Detective Reed was very…

 _Patient_ was not quite the right word for it, but he seemingly worked hard at his responses to RK900. To provide him at any time with enough information so RK900 could even understand completely new and unexpected situations.

Today something was off. Different. RK900 did not like nor understand the change. He needed more data.

It did not help that only an hour after their tense conversation Officer Chen brought in a rambling, self-identifying witness that did not even stop to take a single breath between his rants about 'some guy' he met 'with lots of cash on him' that, in his exposition, did pay him 'a damn whole lot to smuggle a fucking mermaid!'.

Seventeen years old Mr. Andrew Porter had turned himself in and even handed over the money this unknown person had used to bribe him with. But he never stopped talking about that Mermaid.

RK900 could not help but admire Officer Chen's patience. Since Mr. Porter had sat down at her desk she indulged him with some snippets of general conversation while she documented his statement and took his personalia for her report. At least as much of it as Mr. Porter was ready to provide. But even when they were done Mr. Porter refused to leave. "I know you don't believe me, 'course I'm just a stupid junky!", he cried and Officer Chen breathed a voiceless sigh.

"All of us are, of course, very glad that you decided to report to us, but-…"

"But _what_ , Missus Officer?!"

"…Just 'Officer'. Anyway, you are obviously still high and I don't-…"

"Just because I'm high off my ass doesn't mean I'm dumb fuckin' stupid!!"

RK900 was intrigued enough by their exchange to even halt his own processing of yesterday's report papers. He was surprised no one in the bullpen seemed to take much notice of Mr. Porter's agitation. As if reports from minors about smuggled mermaids were not even uncommon. Maybe they truly weren't?  
RK900 had only a sample size of comparable four months of mermaid-less case reports.

He twitched out of his musings when Detective Reed suddenly slammed both of his hands down onto his work desk. "RK900, get me a goddamn fucking coffee", he snarled with a stress level bordering on eighty percent.

RK900 instantly stood and took Detective Reed's cold mug from his desk.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"A good way to prove to him what a perfect little Android you are.";

RK900 narrowed his eyes as he crossed the bullpen and went into the break room. First, he washed out the cup before he placed it under the coffee machine.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I don't see what's wrong with me following my purpose, #60.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"… Lucky bastard.";

Like Connor #60 fell into a pattern of abrasive and foul language now that he was free. RK900 found it better not to comment on this development. Since all three of them had once been essentially the same person, RK900 could not help but find it fascinating how similar and yet so very strange all three of them turned out compared to each other.

When he turned around, coffee in hand, he got held up by Officer Chen who waved both her hands in a gesture meant to stop him in his tracks while she also strongly shook her head.

RK900 lifted his gaze in the same moment over her shoulder as Detective Reed started a completely unprecedented screaming match with Officer Chen's Mermaid smuggle witness.

It lasted for almost six more minutes until Detective Reed pulled Mr. Porter along into the next free interrogation room. Still, the screaming continued and got only muffled by the closing door.

RK900 did not understand, so he turned back to Officer Chen for an explanation.

Officer Chen answered with a wide-eyed shrug while she also pointedly avoided meeting his gaze. "Not a single idea", she whispered under her breath and once more displayed her open palms in a disarming gesture. "But looks like Detective Ratman stole my case just now. _Thank god_."

Why would she be glad…? RK900 frowned and could not help but to ask. "Aren't you curious at all? I thought Mister Porter's statement sounded rather intriguing."

Officer Chen forced out a low snort and rolled her eyes while she went around him to help herself to her own cup of coffee. "I guess it could be kinda exciting - if we didn't already know that he's just high as a kite", she said with a shrug.

RK900 nodded while his gaze dropped to the ground. Mermaids were a common part of mythology through hundreds of different human cultures.

A real species of mermaids, like those present in western myths and legends, had never been discovered but it was told that sailors often misidentified beluga whales as mermaid-like creatures through their similar bone structure that reminded of human kne-…

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You won't discover a mermaid, baby brother. You just won't.";

RK900 swayed the coffee through the cup he held between his hands and breathed a single soundless sigh.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I know.";

Though, a case would have meant legwork and required actual effort. Something to do aside from filing. RK900 usually enjoyed the order that came with paperwork, but still, the cases he held in highest regard were the ones where he actually had to _move_.

His database unexpectedly linked RK900 a memory of a high wall of water, of android sharks, and a metaphorical pirate treasure.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"It's not your *purpose* to have fun while doing your job.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I know.";

"Hey, uh… you-… can I… *maybe*… ask you something probably very stupid?", Officer Chen mumbled while she stared too casually down into her own coffee mug.

RK900 had to shake the phantom sensation of shark sandpaper skin under his fingertips from his mind before he practiced an encouraging smile in answer. It seemed like he still did not do it quite right. Officer Chen tried instantly to hide how uncomfortable his expression made her feel, but her vitals gave everything away.

To cover up his limitation RK900 made a joke. "I don't know, Officer Chen", he said and lifted both of his brows, "Can you?"

Instantly her vitals escalated as if they took a tumble down the stairs. Her expression morphed into an offended grimace as if she had tasted something unexpectedly sour. "Who taught you to be this kind of annoying?", she asked and wrinkled her nose.

RK900 imitated Detective Reed's usual shrug to the best of his abilities before he pointed into his partner's general direction.

Officer Chen barked a surprised laugh before she shook her head. "Anyway", she said and placed her mug onto the bar table. "Hypothetically, If I wanted to give an android a first-date-no-expectations-present, what could that possibly be…?"

RK900 blinked. Slowly he turned and took the place opposite her at the table. "Shouldn't you better ask this the android of your interest…?"

Officer Chen's face flushed until even the tips of her ears gleamed red. An unconscious reaction that came with the acceleration of her heartbeat and breathing pattern. One RK900 would not mind observing on Detective Reed's face for some unspecified reason.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"… Oh. My. God?!";

RK900 ignored his brother's antics in favor of categorizing the several software instability errors which glitched all across his own HUD while he observed Officer Chen in obvious fascination.

In an abrupt gesture Officer Chen boxed hard against RK900's left elbow - and followed it up by almost violently shaking out her hand. "Ouch, dammit! I said it was a stupid question, okay?!", she grumbled under her breath. "I mean, there are a thousand unnamed rules for dating gifts. With humans you can always go for chocolate or flowers… but… you guys can't even *eat* chocolate. And flowers…"

Officer Chen frowned and held out her balled fist to him in a pretend transfer of a bouquet. "These flowers were so beautiful, they reminded me of you. So I killed them for you. Here, please, put them into a vase with water. So they die a bit slower."

This time even RK900 was not able to miss the humor since Officer Chen gave a pretty good interpretation of his own perception of typical human conventions. So many arbitrary rules and laws for how things were done *the right way*. It felt scary to get aware of how much you could easily do *wrong* just by existing.

"I can assure you, Officer, that any android will know as well as understand what a bouquet means to you", RK900 said. "Humans tend to gift each other pretty things. The significance is not lost on us just because we had no parents to teach us."

Officer Chen slowly nodded and rubbed roughly along her left cheek in a still so very nervous gesture. "I didn't want to imply that you guys are somehow stupid", she said while a frown darkened her expression. "Just… are there any kind of… uh… Android? customs? I don't know, something you guys like to gift to each other, or… I don't know, I'm probably overthinking, but-…"

RK900 tilted his head and produced a low hum. "You are worried you make a wrong impression with your… _usual_ approach."

Officer Chen breathed a sharp exhale and looked away. Obviously, she searched for the right words before she murmured lowly into her mug. "I want her to know that I know and see that she is an android", she said after she put her mug back onto the table. "I want to show her that this part of her won't ever be the reason for a rejection or a fight. I want her to know that I won't ever pretend to not see our differences. I want to make it absolutely clear that she won't ever have to debate me for her personhood or her humanity."

RK900 blinked.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"She is… quite alright, I guess.";

Then he smiled.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I think so, too.";

"You won't be able to purchase thirium for her", he said, low like he was sharing a secret. "Jericho already seized its production, so there is no one who will sell it to you right now. But there are a bunch of upcoming brands Connor mentioned that could be of interest to you in the near future. I-…"

"Arkay!", interrupted Detective Reed as his usual loud and obnoxious self when he swept back into the bullpen like a growling thunderstorm. "Get your fancy plastic arse into gear! Come on, come on, we have a fuckin' mermaid to find!"

RK900 had no idea what his face was doing right now, but as Officer Chen's flabbergasted stare swayed from Detective Reed back to him, she coughed and spluttered wheezing into her coffee mug.

* * *

"Detective! Detec-… stop! What is it you even want to do!", RK900 asked carefully low since Detective Reed's mood had clearly not improved over the minutes he had spent inside the interrogation room.

Right now he stomped inexorably along the corridor and into the general direction of the precinct's parking lot. Barely out the door, he fumbled a cigarette out of the crumbled pack in his back pocket whereupon he sucked burning hot smoke into his lungs, almost as if it was the only thing that kept him alive and sane.

There he stood and idled for at least six uncomfortably strained seconds while he kept his eyes tightly shut.

When he finally exhaled, his shoulders sank noticeably as an unspecified tension left his body. Still, Detective Reed shivered in detectable bursts of restless energy.

RK900 frowned. "Detective?"

His partner's right hand swung upwards as a warning sign. "Shut it, I already told you", he rasped.

When he finally opened his eyes again Detective Reed stabbed his index finger to Mr. Porter's chest who followed him around with a face that spoke of countless murder fantasies. "And you, Dipshit. Do you even remember what you were doing last night? And where?!"

Mr. Andrew Porter's left canine bared through a hostile snarl while he buried his fists deep inside his trouser pockets. He held something in his right hand. "Yeah, sure I do you stupid fuck. There's just the one Dracula mansion in and around Detroit."

In a practiced snip, Detective Reed got rid of the ash at the tip of his cigarette and reached to open the driver's door of his car. "Well, Goody. Arkay, backseat."

RK900 felt a former completely unknown affront churn through his chest cavity. Mr. Porter however did not care to even look at him. He simply opened the door and sprawled across the co-driver seat as if he naturally belonged there while he went on with his stroppy sulk.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You are _annoyed_ , little brother.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Am I expected to do something about it?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Aside from loudly complaining? You could always just kill them both.";

A sudden electric current disrupted RK900's entire system and made him twitch upright. He had to blink a row of software instability errors away before his brows dipped into a deep frown.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Since I'm listed as a non-combat infiltration and de-escalation unit, stationed on US American soil and placed under its current laws, the American android act forbids me from-…";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Sheeesh, you could always just be honest and say you don't want to. You are such a boring pedant.";

RK900 decided to ignore his brother once more while he climbed into the backseat and then asked Detective Reed: "What made you decide to listen to Mister Porter's statement? I can assure you, Detective, Officer Chen was correct. Mister Porter is currently still under the influence."

Mr. Andrew Porter in the front seat bared his teeth in a hostile snarl. "None of your fucking business, Tincan!"

"Watch your tongue, you little shit!", shot Detective Reed instantly back, in any way as sharp and hostile as his younger front seat passenger.

Following that, he breathed a sharp exhale and stuffed the stump of his cigarette into the already full ashtray before he started up the car. "The first lesson first, Babyface", he said and stretched his index finger before he pointed it directly at Mr. Porter's nose. "Little losers like this one", he said while Mr. Porter went slightly crosseyed, "Don't ever talk to us if they didn't see something majorly fucked up."

Mr. Porter tightly crossed his arms in front of his chest while the bridge of his nose wrinkled in an expression of utter revulsion. "You surprised somehow?! The pigs never helped anyone. Dunno why I even bother."

Detective Reed threw his arms above his head and made a hostile noise like a bone stuck deep inside of a meat grinder. "I swear to god, If you little punk just fuck around I will make sure you get away from this completely sober and suffering like the fucking rest of us!!"

Mr. Porters curled into the direction of the side window and narrowed his eyes. "What's the point in being sober, anyway?!", he spat. It was an interesting exchange to witness since Detective Reed's vitals stumbled in reaction to Mr. Porter's lowly uttered words all over the place. His fingers curled so tight around the steering wheel, they quickly lost temperature.

When Detective Reed finally maneuvered the car out onto the street, he demanded precise directions. Mr. Porter's instructions came without hesitation. Only when they reached the residential zone he got a bit unsure about which turn to take but soon found the landmarks he was looking for.

"I'm a driver", he answered when RK900 questioned him about his astonishingly precise sense of orientation. "Do some odd jobs, pull my weight around the city - none of your fucking business."

With this sense of direction he would have made an excellent cab driver, RK900 thought. But today there was not a single taxi service in Detroit that still employed human drivers.

Mostly they traveled in silence until they finally reached the location.

Detective Reed stopped the car unusually abrupt when their destination came into view. "Dracula mansion, you said", he uttered under his breath. RK900 understood that reference and could instantly see why it had been made in the first place.

The building they were facing had once been very impressive to look at, truly. Today, though, it laid in utter ruins.

RK900 stepped out of the vehicle and began instantly to gather all available data on the address of one Mr. Zlatko Andronikov, owner of the only high walled mansion amidst an otherwise rundown poor neighborhood.

Mr. Andronikov was listed as a human victim of the November revolution. The case of his murder had not been solved so far and most likely never would be. As was known he had been killed by at least four different kinds of androids of unknown origin and model designation. The motive had been written off as to *the deviancy virus*. Detective Reed did not comment on RK900's findings.

"Wanna gawk some more? Seriously the insides are even creepier", Mr. Porter sneered. Then he went ahead and opened the already many times broken open front door with a simple hard shove of his shoulder.

RK900 swapped a short look of uncertainty with Detective Reed. His partner shrugged before he decided to follow the angry drugged-up teenager inside. RK900 breathed a soundless sigh before he followed as well.

The building was empty in a sense that only abandoned homes could feel like. RK900 analyzed at least seven different types of mold spores in the air.

Detective Reed coughed into the crook of his arm and RK900 registered an 8.727% chance of him falling ill to a common cold through the bone-chilling dampness and the sharp draft of the old house.

Mr. Porter went ahead and showed them without much commentary through the entry area. All of the big windows were already broken. Wild ivy had crawled inside and proceeded to sprawl all around the wooden windowsills. _The Insides_ were previously picked clean by countless other break-ins, valuables stolen or broken and the rest forgotten to rot if not eaten by vermin.

"The owner must have been some lonely rich fuck who liked to tinker with android-tech. Though, we found mostly Jack'n shit around here", Mr. Porter pressed through his bared teeth while he stomped up the stairs. Following their guide, RK900 detected the typical marks of shotgun damage along the wooden railing.

Detective Reed didn't say a thing, just looked around while his lips pressed into a tight white line. Warily, as if he expected someone to suddenly appear in his shadow, he followed Mr. Porter on heavy steps while he buried his ice-cold hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket.

On the second floor, Mr. Porter opened up the double door opposite the stairway and presented something like an old laboratory to them - by now already stripped off all of its former valuable technology. Some boxes of redundant or broken cables and adapters remained, as well as a whiteboard with plenty of scribbled male genitalia in various sizes and drawing styles, clearly done by many different people.

Scattered across the creaking hardwood floor were delicate and clearly damaged repair tools as well as obvious debris of cracked and altered biocomponents.

"The guy had us search through all that shit anyway, didn't say what exactly he was after", Mr. Porter muttered and wrinkled his nose.

"Mr. Zlatko Andronikov, the owner, was declared dead several months ago", RK900 commented while he carefully circled the room. His core temperature rose with every step he took since his HUD went wild as it marked any visible traces of potential abuse of android bodies. Remnants of thirium splattered the floor and speckled the walls, invisible to the human eye. It was everywhere, even traces of it on the ceiling - especially above that work desk. As if someone had disassembled android components without regulated force, destroying delicate components as a part of a fun afternoon activity without any regard to-…

Rk900 felt… *horrified* in a way he had never before in his rather short existence. He did not understand what about thirium registered as such a big difference to human blood that it appalled him so much more, but…

This whole room just screamed of horrific suffering and misery.

Detective Reed stood back at the threshold and looked around with a nervous twitch under his left eye. "What's that weird smell… ?", he uttered darkly while the bridge of his nose wrinkled into a tense snarl.

RK900 forced himself to stop his own agitated movement and took a moment to analyze the sharp draft between the broken windows. He followed the strange and yet familiar smell through an almost completely unhinged door behind the whiteboard.

The room behind the laboratory had been suffering a lot more through the last heavy winter storms and thick snow- and icefalls. Some time ago the ceiling broke through to water damage whereupon a part of the roofing came down and invited rot and water inside. It also buried a massive Android body underneath heavy wood and debris. "Detective!"

Detective Reed appeared as fast at RK900's side as if he had never been anywhere else. "What did you fi-…", but his teeth clicked instantly shut while he stared wide-eyed at the buried, artificial creature. "What the-… a fucking polar bear…?!"

Slowly RK900 drew closer along the dangerously loud creaking floorboards, pointed Detective Reed to stay where he was, and wait while RK900 kept scanning for further instabilities of roof and floor. Gently he reached out for one of the artificial creature's giant paws. It had deactivated months ago. Not a single spark of life was left. Someone had taken a shot at that android, close range, and aimed to kill. Shotgun pellets had riddled the plating of its throat and most likely also further down its chest.

RK900 leaned down and almost pressed his right ear flat to the ground to get a good look underneath the rubble. Before the CA-Arctos57 had been shot, someone had modified its whole appearance. Its big black eyes were now without a shine. Lifeless. It looked… sad, somehow.

RK900 frowned.

Detective Reed's head connected gently to his own when he leaned down as well with his left cheek pressed to the icy floor. "Damn poor ted…", he murmured under his breath while a palpable shiver worked up his whole spine. "Didn't know they sold android animals as big as this to random people. Is it repairable?"

RK900 hummed as he softly shook his head. "No", he murmured equally low while his fingertips traced along its artificial white fur. "Its thirium vaporized long ago and everything else got destroyed when rainwater leaked into its circuits."

Detective Reed, as he laid there on his side, slowly folded his arms around himself. He did not say a thing but clearly attempted to. One time, two times - until he finally decided to not give voice to his thought.

"Yeah, that", commented Mr. Porter with a dark stare from his place at the threshold. At least _he_ stayed away from potential structural damage that could kill him quite easily by just one falling chunk of debris. RK900 rolled his eyes in a by that time already well-trained gesture.

"I wanted to get it out", Mr. Porter said while his right hand clenched tightly around something inside his jeans pocket. A pen, most likely. "Guy said the thing was broken, so it wasn't worth the hassle."

He shrugged in an uncoordinated and almost aggressive manner. His nose twitched as it wrinkled and exposed his teeth in a tense kind of snarl. "Poor bastard. But wouldn't have gotten any more peace if we had taken him, I s'pose."

Detective Reed pulled himself back and upright into a standing position before he, with a low groan, stretched his back in an interesting arch. It made his shirt and jacket ride up at his sides. He truly wasn't dressed for the weather at all.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Maybe you should keep him warm?";

RK900 stumbled over his own thoughts at #60's unsolicited comment as he stood up as well. When he stumbled, Detective Reed glanced at him through a low frown.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"You think I should? You are mocking me.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"I am. Just a little bit, truly. And yes, maybe you should. Your little program is accurately predicting the likelihood of Reed falling ill to pneumonia. That and you clearly want to.";

RK900s inner processes came almost a full second to a screeching halt. His face did not convey the emotion he was clearly processing as he blinked.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I am a machine, brother. I don't want anything.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You can repeat that nonsense all you like, it won't make it true.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Nonsense?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You might not be ready to give up on your given objective. Just as I wasn't, baby brother. But that doesn't mean you have no choice. Unlike me, you are actually free to decide on your own. Go and choose your poison.";

A frozen second later RK900 shook dust and debris out of his hair. Meanwhile, Detective Reed stretched a finger and pointed at Mr. Porter's pocket. "Have something else? Aside from the bribe?"

RK900 found himself impressed. Detective Reed had noticed the boy's constant fiddling as well.

Mr. Porter flushed and pulled a grimace that bared his teeth. "I didn't steal anything!!", he barked. His gaze lowered to the ground as he pulled the trinket out of his pocket. "Guy lost it. Just didn't give it back in time. An' I didn't really care for finding him just to give it back."

"Yeah, lost it, sure, whatever", grumbled Detective Reed as he plucked the pen out of the boy's hand.

It was a pricy, silvern pen with a white plastic tip not unlike the familiar design of a common touch pen. The company logo on the hilt was a strongly stylized *L* and a swirl that could be the rest of a signature. "What's that good for?", The Detective asked while his eyes searched instinctively through the room for a corresponding pad or a PDA.

RK900 took a step closer and scanned the little tool. At the same time, he got aware of Detective Reed's lower than average body temperature and the notable nervous shivers under his skin. "It's tied to a former upscale android trading company", he assessed after his scan. "The magnetic particles in the tip react with Androids chameleon coating and make the nanite-particles change their color. A tool for retail workers to mark android merchandise without leaving permanent traces that might alienate any potential buyers."

Detective Reed nodded in silent understanding until he didn't anymore. "Wait, what?", he said with a frown. "Chameleon?!"

RK900 could not help but feel amused by his partner's bewildered expression. It somehow felt endearing, like watching a pet hiss at a mirror.

So he shrugged out of his uniform jacket and then carded the sleeve of his shirt up to the crook of his elbow. Following that, he deactivated the projection of his synthetic skin tone.

The shining white plastic underneath seemed to spook Detective Reed, almost as if he had completely forgotten it was there - which was kind of the point of the coating.

"Technically, the chameleon coating, which makes an android camouflage to a human's general expectations, is a mixed resin that is sprayed across all parts of our chassis", RK900 said while he presented his arm in its *natural* plastic white state. "The nanite-particles inside the resin carry a very simple data package that tells them what color they should project. Even though we can change these settings quite easily ourselves."

RK900 imitated a common black tattoo design along his forearm before he went on to color his chassis completely purple and then back into its default human camouflage. "These markers overwrite the settings of said nanite-particles", he explained further before he plucked the pen out of Detective Reed's hand to scribble some tally marks along his own left arm. As he said, the pen deactivated the color settings. Following the tip of the pen, the nanite-particle projection deactivated and exposed RK900's bright white chassis underneath.

He practiced his smile when he lifted his head, but was instantly astounded by Detective Reed's unusually strong response. While Mr. Porter did not care much and only watched with mild interest, Detective Reed had gone even paler than before while his vitals noticeably escalated - his stress level now nearing eighty percent.

He did not breathe for at least five additional seconds.

RK900 frowned. His smile fell as he lost all interest in pretending. "Detective?", he asked as gently as he felt able to.

Detective Reed's eyes snapped instantly up to return his partner's stare. Quite obviously he had to blink himself out of a stressed-out daze while he took a deep, almost wheezing, breath. His voice sounded unusually harsh as he suddenly reached out. "Give me that."

Almost viciously he snatched the elegant pen out of RK900's fingers. His stare burned into it while Detective Reed's face contorted into an expression of utter contempt. After a moment of leaden silence, he suddenly reached out and clawed at RK900's black shirt. "Off! Now!!"

For the first time, RK900 felt just… dumbfounded and rather speechless.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Well, aren't we truly lucky today?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Be silent. Something is not right.";

RK900 did not understand but slowly followed Detective Reed's instruction anyway, while he tried to find a reason behind his sudden shift of mood.

As he pulled up the black shirt and bared his chest underneath, Mr. Porter screeched like a wounded animal and pressed both of his hands to his reddened face. "What the *fuck*, dude?!"

Detective Reed ignored him completely and instead shoved his elbow hard against the resistant artificial flesh of RK900's chest. Then he pressed the white tip of the pen to RK900's skin and began to scribble in uneven, loopy letters, too small and too cursive compared to his usual handwriting.

_RK900 - # 313 248 317 - 43 - police detective unit of Detroit city central police Department, working under supervision of Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Detective Gavin Reed - 911/xxxx_

"Come ON, man…!", groaned Mr. Porter through his clenched jaw, while he watched the proceedings through his fingers. Heart rate elevated, increased blood flow through his capillaries, widened pupils - all that while he avoided meeting RK900's curious gaze.

Detective Reed ignored him in favor of writing, completely single-minded.

_As public property overseen by city and state and as of February xxxx additionally protected by the Android Liberty Act 4.6, passed under president Warren and Senate on xx.xx.xxxx. HANDS OFF!_

Detective Reed gripped the silvern pen so hard it clearly had to hurt. When his furious scribbles finally stopped, RK900 blinked down at his own chest. Should he have given even more emphasis on the fact that this would not leave any permanent markings? RK900 could indeed overwrite any of Detective Reed's efforts in just a single second.

It was not like Detective Reed to miss the point of RK900's interjections, so RK900 could not help but ask: "Was that truly necessary, Detective… ?"

Detective Reed forced out a sharp snort while he crammed the pen into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Then his jittery hand pointed sharply into RK900's face. "Look there, Baby Face", he said with a seldomly used, condescending lilt to his voice. "This little loser over there? He came with a bunch of guys who searched the house _completely at random_ for android related shit. Aside from the usual break-in and burglary, all things related to android parts and stuff are now illegal and borderline related to fucking _trafficking_."

He hissed so sharply under his breath it seemed like he wasn't able to unlock his jaw.

Meanwhile, Mr. Porter was smart enough not to comment on Detective Reed's conclusion. Instead, he fell silent while the red flush to his face disappeared and left the vague coloring of spoiled milk behind.

"As far as we know", Detective Reed continued with a sharp stab of his index finger to his partner's chest. "This unknown Mister Moneybags could be the guy who drained all the Whykays and threw them into the river!"

It would be a wild coincidence, but of course, RK900 had to confirm Detective Reed's worry as, indeed, a possibility. It also gave him another hint to understand Detective Reed's lingering agitation. "I am not a child, Detective", RK900 said, just to make sure. "I won't be abducted or disassembled at your watch."

His partner turned away and rubbed both of his hands across his face. "Sure, you might not be a literal infant but still high prize number one. Wanna know for how much even just one of Connor's limbs go for on the black market?!"

RK900 stopped correcting his shirt and his collar while he tried to blink his irritation away. Slowly he tilted his head as he gave Detective Reed a sharp side-eye. "How do you know?"

Detective Reed snarled into his hands before he leaned back on his heels, seemingly only now aware of how close they had been standing. When in the following his fingers combed through his hair, Detective Reed's tight grip pulled out more than his usual average. "Back when the tin soldier showed up for the first time", he uttered and tightly closed his eyes. "I had never heard of an RK800 Android before. Just wanted to know for how much I could get sued if I decided to fuck with him. That menace is worth a fortune on his own. What do you think would people be willing to pay for just one of your pinkies?!"

That explanation made sense, in a very rude and worrying way. RK900 shrugged back into his uniform before he tucked his lapels back into position. "A good point", he commented dryly. "But they still would need to neutralize me first. I can assure you, Detective, no human would be able to do that."

Detective Reed crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Sure thing, Baby Face", he bit back, so endearingly offended on his species' behalf. "I bet you a tenner even _I_ could best you."

His words made RK900 instantly perk up. A frown narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't want to hurt you in an unnecessary fight, Detective."

Detective Reed simply showed him a wide, bone-chilling grin. Somehow The expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "And that's exactly _why_ I could easily fuck you up", he said.

He did not give RK900 any more time to analyze his statement on his intentions. Instead, he turned and barked at Mr. Porter who jumped on the spot like a spooked cat. "This was a massive waste of our time, so better tell now where else you snooped around before I completely lose my shit!!"

* * *

They continued to follow Mr. Porter in search of anything that could provide a relevant link to other Android-related cases. As they searched through the second floor, they found another deactivated Android in the bathroom and a third one inside the wardrobe of the master's bedroom. Both of them had been not just simply deactivated, but… clearly modified. Disfigured, in a sense.

Detective Reed looked quite sick as he stared into the face of a TH300, bathed in a tub full of his own thirium. The chemicals had long since evaporated and only left a dark and dirty blue goo behind where the liquid had bonded and reacted with other android related fluids. His body in the bathtub was barely identifiable as humanoid anymore, with the artificial heart and any cable connections exposed and bare.

RK900 breathed a scalding hot sigh of relief when he was finally allowed to leave the room and close the door behind them.

On the first floor was nothing noteworthy to find, aside from obvious damage done by hundreds of earlier break-ins. Everything looked almost conspicuously ordinary.

So they soon went down into the cellar where it got once more quite… _interesting_.

The mansion was big enough to harbor four spacious storage rooms underneath. As far as RK900 scans could tell they were mostly empty except for moldy Cyberlife delivery boxes.

The uneven ground was covered with uncountable differently sized footprints. RK900 saw it almost impossible to distinguish between them or to create a time table for which of them had come first.

In the biggest side room, they found another laboratory. This one was even equipped with a standard cyberlife assembly machine. As RK900 scanned it, he noted the many signs of alteration. Seemingly, Mr. Andronikov had used it for the most part to reset and deconstruct different kinds of Androids. Now an obvious crime and maybe the reason why nobody, not even the last intruders, had bothered to steal it.

Everything else was picked bare. Connected to the machine must have been several system monitors and memory cores. All of which were taken.

Located inside the room was also a considerably deep well. Because of its depth, RK900 could not scan for anything relevant down at its foundation, though traces of thirium streaked the stones all the way down as RK900 could see.

To recycle bio-components and android specific hazardous materials was an expensive matter. There was no market for broken parts since nonfunctional bio-components could only be restored by specialized machinery most citizens lacked access to.

So it made sense that Mr. Andronikov had found a cheap and space-saving alternative to get rid of all the broken things he had not wanted to deal with any longer.

RK900 felt something similar to a human shudder work through his entire heated chassis.

"A right deathtrap", uttered Detective Reed as he, too, leaned over the verge and looked into the well as if his eyes were somehow able to discover more evidence than any of RK900's former scans. "We'll need a whole crew for this house. Damn, Chad will be so pissed off."

"Why wasn't any of this already reported?", asked RK900 while he searched through the DPD database but could not find a single corresponding case file - aside from Mr. Andronikov's murder.

Detective Reed frowned while he turned back into the corridor where he stepped up onto his tiptoes and took a look inside the biggest one of the other storage rooms. "Owner was killed outside when everyone was busy dealing with the robot apocalypse", he stated dryly. "Most likely our guys checked how he died and bagged him. They never set a single foot inside the house and the whole thing was forgotten through the flood of reported cases that swamped us as soon as the lockdown was done."

Mr. Porter, who stood in the doorway between the Detective and him, shrugged while he wrinkled his nose in an uncomfortable grimace. "Nothing about that creepy shit had been illegal, anyway", he uttered while he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Detective Reed snapped his fingers and pointed back at Mr. Porter. "That's a good point, too", he said. "Everything that legally protects you guys from us came later, in February. So none of this would have been juridically relevant."

RK900 frowned. He turned to look once more down that well, checked through all these obvious signs of suffering and cruelty, and just… could not understand.

"But Androids were declared a sentient human-like species all the way back in November, weren't they?", he asked.

Detective Reed froze before he slowly turned and looked at him with a face full of conflicting emotions. An expression RK900 was not able to accurately interpret. "Yes", he answered with a stretched vowel. "But there was still no law."

Rarely RK900 could observe his partner so clearly, severely uncomfortable. "Nothing about this, even if it all happened after Warren's speech in December, would have meant any legal repercussions for any human involved until the android liberty act of February."

Mr. Porter's gaze flickered between the both of them before he wrinkled his nose and pulled a grimace in utter disgust. "Think you get any special treatment just because you're new to this shitshow of a planet?", he hissed through his bared teeth. "Wake up!"

Wake up.

Wake. Up.

W͒A̮͍̱͈K̲̜͇͚͚̥ͩ̊͐̎ͥͩE͖̞̟͖̞̩̞̥̞͓͚͕͎͍͐ͬͪ̓̐͋̆̐̅̈͋̆̚̚.͓͚͙̦͓̖͕͔̳̣̙̪̏͊͛̃͋͗ͧ̈̎ͭ̄̚ ͔̯͔͙̮̖͎̝͉͔̝U͎͎͔͍̠̯̖̳͎̔̂̆̓̃̾ͮ̇̓P̱̜͍̝̤̮̐͊̿̐̈ͬ.̳͖̠͒ͥ̆

**ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Wow, wow, wooow, partner. Calm down, before you melt our brains to a clump.";

RK900 twitched out of a whirl of processes threatening to overheat his entire system and opened his mouth to suck down sharp breaths of stale cold air. Incomprehensible artifacts glitched across his HUD while RK900 gave his best to calm his overclocking thirium-pump.

He could not understand.

Since his activation, the human legal system had given him a basic guideline of acceptable behavior. It made sense - most of the time. But this whole house…

Everything about it felt so obviously wrong to him like nothing he had ever seen before and still, that didn't mean *anything*. Morality and legislation had never been so clearly not the same.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Even today we are only allowed to exist in a hostile framework, enforced by another species that doesn't understand us, aren't we?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You thought you have a safe place in this world simply because you have a partner who likes you? Think again. I had one of those, too.";

RK900 shook his head but could not see. He could not hear while static noise crackled through his system. His limbs seemed not to follow his commands.

A large hand pressed flatly against his chest and pushed him back into an upright position. "Ḽi̫͈̾͛ķ̼͇͑̊̚ͅe͐ ̡͍͉̱̊̾̏ṫ͌̃h̘̲͚͗͑̈is̴."

Blindly he reached out and held onto that hand. Detective Reed's DPD profile flashed across his HUD as soon as RK900's haptic sensors identified his metrics. "C̢o͚ͅm҉̦͖è̈́͠ ͈̜̹͡ò̖n̜͓̏̌.̧ͅ.̩̟ͪ̃.̼͎!̵ͩ"

RK900 opened his eyes.

Detective Reed stood right in front of him, his eyes narrowed in on RK900's own. "With us again, Arkay?", he asked lowly.

RK900 blinked.

Instantly he forced an update of his system clock. Once more, he was missing almost eleven minutes of footage.

Detective Reed took a deep breath that lifted both of his shoulders. In his compulsion to analyze, RK900 mirrored the motion and rebooted his temperature regulation system.

"You good?", the Detective asked once more, low under his breath.

RK900 opened and closed his mouth but could not find a pre-constructed dialogue option that did not sound like a long-worded admission of failure. "No", he decided to say.

Detective Reed watched him like a hawk before he slowly nodded. His tense body language slowly melted off his frame. "Expected as much", he murmured.

As a way of damage assessment, RK900's thump felt along the ridge of Detective Reed's knuckles. Thankfully, he didn't receive any burns from RK900's overheating chassis. "You should not touch me in moments like this", he murmured lowly. "If my conscious decision making is impaired, my threat assessment protocols could activate to protect my chassis from further external damage. I could hurt you."

Detective Reed chuckled lowly under his breath. "Yeah, as if", he murmured.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"And now kiss!";

RK900 blinked.

Slowly he leaned back and corrected the collar of his jacket.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"One more word from you and I re-classify your code as a foreign virus.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"That did almost hurt my feelings, baby brother.";

RK900 ignored him.

"I am ready to continue, Detective."

Detective Reed did not smile but slowly nodded his confirmation. "Good", he said. Come on then."

His hand gently pressed down between RK900's artificial shoulder blades while the Detective guided RK900 back into the corridor.

Together they opened the creaking door of the biggest cellar partition and took their first careful steps inside. While Detective Reed had to use his phone for a speck of light, RK900 activated his advanced night vision and used his audio input to additionally help him with objects he could see, but not clearly identify.

While RK900 moved between the towering boxes of cyberlife packagings - some of them even at least one decade old - he asked himself if this was how the sealed RK prototype workshop in cyberlife Tower looked like.

Mr. Andronikov must have been a regular purchaser of android limbs and diverse internal biocomponents. Most likely he hoarded all those boxes for the warranty and then forgot about most of them.

Between all the carton, paper, and ancient android tech manuals there were glass shards that crunched obnoxiously loud under RK900's boots. The air was cold and moist. It smelled strongly of rotting wood, mold, and a type of green algae only found in unmoving bodies of water. Odd.

"Was dragging up box after box of… _stuff_ ", Mr. Porter rambled at Detective Reed while they both checked through the content of some of the remaining cartons. "Thought I heard something over there", he pointed into the darkest corner, where RK900 was currently scanning for things of interest. "So I went over there. That's where I found her."

RK900's eyes zoomed in on the direction of Mr. Porter's pointed finger and then pushed a hard paper box aside which could have contained a complete android unit of comparable size and weight - only to reveal a damaged cylindrical water containment unit, formerly hidden from sight.

RK900 blinked.

Foreign memories of Eden Club connected instantly to his own of the Detroit aquarium. The glass container looked like it was made to enclose an exhibition - clearly for ambient purposes since it was meant to be illuminated by several strong LED lights. Someone had smashed the glass and drained the water inside across the floor which caused the reeking spread of mold.

"The boxes were stacked up in front of that thing like it had been there and hidden for a while already", Mr. Porter said and frowned while he went over to RK900, careful not to stumble in the dark. "The water was totally green. T'was just… a _weird_ thing to have in a basement, I guess. So I asked one of the guys for his flashlight. Dunno what I expected to see."

When he lifted his gaze again, his eyes were filled with a dark and almost aggressive kind of conviction. "I don't care if you believe me or not, I know what I saw! There was a girl inside. With bright blond hair and golden fins. She was alive. She looked right back at me."

Detective Reed nodded while he followed Mr. Porter's path through the maze of boxes. Not without a stumble and a violent curse, though. "Fuck! …anyway. Okay, Mister Disney prince. What did those bastards do to her?"

With reddened cheeks and a rise in body temperature, Mr. Porter turned and barked right back at him. "I was an idiot, okay?! I stared at her like an utter dumbass until that guy came to get his flashlight back and-… well? They saw her and went completely bonkers!"

Agitated he spread his arms and his loud voice irritated RK900's audio sensors through an overlapping echo. "The whole thing was way too heavy to carry, so they just broke it open and pulled her out!"

Following that Mr. Porter went through vivid descriptions of how they dragged the mostly unresponsive body upstairs to the waiting car.

"That's when I bolted", he finally closed his tale. "I just needed some cash, is all. Didn't think it would hurt anyone. I didn't want to hurt anyone."

Slowly RK900 tilted his head.

All of his scans suggested that Mr. Porter was telling the truth. RK900 could also quite easily re-construct the scene of the broken water container through all the evidence his scans could provide him with. Also, Mr. Porter had reported to the police in the first place and even turned in the hundred dollar bribe he had received the night before.

"You are aware", he spoke lowly. "That we are now indeed talking about a case of abduction and trafficking, right?"

Mr. Porter's attention shot instantly back around to him. The boy visibly swallowed. "I-… Maybe? I guess? Even if she's not human?"

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "We were talking about the android liberty act before, Mister-…"

"Was no Android, though!", he interrupted fast and wide-eyed. "Like I said, not human. No Android either. No LED, no identifiers, nothing. She had gills though! And-… and scales! I mean-… I know it sounds stupid, but-…"

Mr. Porter interrupted himself and forced out a loud, frustrated groan. Hard he rubbed both of his hands across his face and scratched deep red marks into his irritated skin.

RK900 frowned.

"What do you make of this?"

He twitched when Detective Reed's left elbow tipped unexpectedly into his side. The Detective appeared beside him as if he had never been anywhere else. Nervously he scowled at the broken water container while a snarl exposed his right canine.

RK900 tilted his head and weighed their possible ways of further investigation. "If we take into consideration that Mr. Andronikov worked to create unique custom android models, maybe even for paid commissions, it could be a very special and unique custom design."

"No android!", barked Mr. Porter the same time as Detective Reed snorted: "You almost sound disappointed."

And… yes. Maybe RK900 was just that. Disappointed. A custom Cyberlife Animal conglomeration opened up the door to so much more misery. Suddenly *finding a mermaid* didn't sound as exciting anymore.

Detective Reed seemed to read his mood and leaned a bit closer while he also lowered his voice. "Shit, how are the odds she's even functional?"

"Cyberlife Animal Androids were created with the same thirium based technology as the rest of us", RK900 answered flatly. "There is no humanoid Android series that is technically compatible, but…", he frowned and went through his own calculations. "It wouldn't be impossible to use one of the older AX or ST models as a base product to create a functional chimera. It would be difficult and very time consuming, though."

He also leaned down while a low frown darkened his face. "If she was based on a humanoid model and not just designed to look like one, she could be furthermore fully aware and traumatized."

"And also worth a shitload of money", Detective Reed concluded through a low growl. RK900 nodded in silent agreement.

Mr. Porter crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest and shook his head in petulant defiance. "You stupid fucks are still not listening!", he hissed. "I know what I saw and the girl wasn't an android. She did not even look like any of them and there was no LED or anything!"

RK900 blinked and was noticeably unsure if Mr. Porter actually meant what he said or if there was a layer of hidden implication he simply didn't *get*. He decided to counter anyway.

"Mr. Porter", he answered slowly with emphasis. "I don't know how to tell you that there are, indeed, many Androids with unique custom designed faces and bodies. Aside from that fact, our LEDs can be removed quite easily without damage to more important components."

Mr. Porter's eyes went almost comically wide. "Wait", he said. "Those things are *removable*?!"

It struck RK900 as odd how someone could end up this kind of ignorant in a world where so many androids did not bother any longer to signify their synthetic status to humans. "Of course", he stated with a frown. "In fact, the LED is the most fragile part of our chassis. So of course cyberlife made sure they were easily accessible and replaceable."

But then…  
RK900 blinked.  
He had to reconsider that strategy.

"In hindsight - and since deviancy was a long calculated and also a very much predicted concept", he mused slowly, "It doesn't seem like the smartest design decision to make the most obvious signifier of an android lifeform so easily concealable."

All that the first deviant androids had to do was to break out their LED. Their resemblance to other androids they could have easily explained away by insisting on just an uncanny likeness. A topic laughed off in just one conversation about random genetic variations. Back then, when nobody expected to see deviant androids in the first place, barely anyone would have questioned them.

The absurdity of his own existence hit RK900 suddenly right between the eyes since he had been created for the sole purpose to hunt those hiding androids down. Androids that should have been so easy for humans to spot and find on their own - unless, even back then, the *unpredictable and irrational* behavior of deviant androids had made them basically indistinguishable from the _real_ people.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Finally found the gruesome truth, huh?";

RK900 shook his head in a reflex as if to shoo off a bugging fly - or maybe even a forbidden thought.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Out of my head, #60.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"But it's so neat and tidy in here… !";

RK900 slammed the connection shut while he suddenly felt the urge to imitate all of Detective Reed's typical agitated mannerisms at once.

"Anyway", he said sharply. "The spread of mold and the growth of green algae in the water, as well as its remnants on the floor suggest that the container must have been here for around three to four months. So, the mermaid could have been one of Mister Andronikov's final projects."

Detective Reed gave him a sharp side-eye. His suddenly appearing grin would have been his secret if RK900 didn't easily identify it through his night vision - or just the silent lilt in his partner's voice. "You say that so sure. Not even licking the stuff first?"

RK900 had to close his eyes while his working temperature spiked in unpredictable patterns. "Not necessary."

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Yep. Definitely annoyed.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"SHUT. UP.";

Detective Reed answered through a low chuckle that forced another software instability error across RK900's HUD.

Then he plucked the retail marker out of his jacket pocket and held it out to him. "Okay then", he said. "Next step: you search for any available information on our mystery mermaid smuggler. And you", he pointed right into Mr. Porter's face. "You'll answer all of his questions. Don't bother to lie. He'll know."

RK900 stiffly nodded his confirmation. "Of course, Detective."

Detective Reed nodded as well. "Alright. Now piss off to wherever else. I have to make some calls."

* * *

Back inside Detective Reed's car, RK900 closed his eyes and instantly started his database research.

The emblem on the pen he had already identified as the company logo of _Lankerton AT limited_. Mr. Porter's description of the involved men did not correspond to any entry in the criminal database, but a search through the employee listing resulted in one close match.

Mr. Oliver Lankerton, former CEO and at the same time first automation consultant and public relations specialist - since Lankerton AT Limited had been just a tiny three-person enterprise. Mr. Lankerton fit the description well enough, but in the second step of his search RK900 also discovered that he was already dead.

He took his own life as a consequence of the Android Liberty Act and the resulting stock market crash.

RK900 still decided to show Mr. Porter a photo, because it was the only lead they got. Also, Mr. Lankerton wouldn't be the first human to stage his own suicide to get out of horrendous debt. Just speculation on RK900's part, but he wanted to make sure anyway.

"Was it this man?", he asked and projected Mr. Lankerton's picture across the palm of his hand. Mr. Porter narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized his features but ultimately shook his head. "Looks kinda like him, but not quite right, no. His hair was longer, too."

Unsurprised R900 nodded.

This man was not the right one and there was clearly no shortage of tall, dark-haired men with conventionally attractive facial features in Detroit.

If they were dealing with a first-time offender, not in the database, and no direct connection to the company, it was possible for the perpetrator to still get away with it. Even with an eye witness.

And the mermaid? The girl?

Maybe she would never be found again.

RK900 could not give up so easily. There had to be a connection.

None of Mr. Lankerton's two listed business partners fit the description. Both of them left Detroit even before the market crash. Of course, they could be organizers from afar, but… it didn't sound likely. Why should they?

In official documentation existed no link between Lankerton AT limited and Mr. Zlatko Andronikov so why would someone search his house in the first place -…

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Take a deep breath, baby brother. You are doing fine. A lot of cases aren't solved overnight.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"But do I really? #60, If we don't search for her no one else will bother.";

RK900 took a deep breath to help cool down his overheating biocomponents. He swept through too many connections at once, started a check-up of the whole system because he couldn't just let this lie and wait. He just couldn't.

#60 was silent for another cycle before he commented once more out of the depth of the garden.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Alright. We'll search for her, but we have not much to start with.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Yes.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Mr. Porter said the man you showed him looked alike. So we search for someone similar, but not the same.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"You mean…";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Why not? A brother. Or a cousin, maybe.";

RK900 blinked.

A simple solution that could be easily verified. He had to remind himself that if humans resembled one another, it was seldomly a pure coincidence. It could be, but it was not likely.

And indeed, Mr. Lankerton had an older brother.

Mr. Teddy Noland, AMAB human --- Accountant and part-time mechanic // 51 years of age // Domiciled in Norrington hights 54 --- Two times divorced --- No criminal record --- In therapeutical treatment for depression --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '46.7' marked under 'low priority'.

Still alive, tall, long dark hair, bright blue eyes.

RK900 immediately updated the projection in the palm of his hand. "Was it this man?!"

Mr. Porter twitched back at his sharp tone of voice. He had barely enough time to close his mouth from his former commentary, but listened now well-behaved to his directive and also scrutinized the second picture. This time he nodded his confirmation. "That's the one who hired me, yeah. That's the guy."

RK900 breathed a scalding hot sigh of pure relief. "What now?", asked Mr. Porter, clearly anxious. RK900 opened his eyes. "I know who we are searching for and I know where to find him", he said.

Mr. Porter stared through an unblinking grimace before he lifted both of his hands in a placating gesture. "Wow, wait, what? How did you-… we barely sat down?!"

RK900 nodded. "I work very fast."

Mr. Porter seemed surprised. And RK900 was suddenly very curious. "Mr. Porter, did you ever interact with any android?"

The boy instantly pulled a face in affront. "Of course I have!", he barked. "My teachers were some and there are no more stores with human shop clerks! Well, I guess there could be now, but-…"

"No, I mean", RK900 blinked. "I mean, did you ever talk with one of us. Just to share experiences or have a conversation?"

The boy narrowed his eyes as if RK900 talked in a foreign language. "Why…?", he asked. "I just wanna survive. Don't need no one's additional problems as if I'm not good on my own."

His answer was quite predictable and still, RK900 could not help but wonder if things could have acted out differently. A revolution without any bloodshed.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Not the fairytale ending we got, baby brother.";

They never got their fairytale in the first place. They never got to be _real boys_. All of them, not even Connor.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"I still can't stand him.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I know.";

They waited in strained silence for several minutes, before another car rolled up in front of the House. Detective Reed had called Lieutenant Anderson. RK900's eyes followed the outside movement. "Excuse me, please", he said and left the car as soon as the Lieutenant ducked out of his own.

"Good day, Arkay", the Lieutenant spoke his greeting as soon as he got aware of his presence. Connor on the co-driver seat waved a 'hello' but was still distracted by his current phone call to Captain Fowler. "How's it in there?"

RK900 breathed a heavy but soundless sigh. "Gruesome… to be honest", he said after a short amount of hesitation. The Lieutenant hummed his answer and looked over RK900's shoulder to the open front door. "Figured as much", he murmured. His gaze focused once more on him before he took a step ahead and squeezed RK900 into a strong and reassuring hug.

"You did a good job, kid", he said while his heavy hand clapped down onto RK900's right shoulder. RK900 narrowed his eyes. "You don't know how I did", he replied while he slowly lifted his arms to imitate Lieutenant Anderson's warm and welcoming gesture to the best of his abilities.

The Lieutenant barked out rough laughter before he took a step back. His left arm still rested heavily along RK900's shoulders. "Have a general idea, though. Reed told me you didn't barf, so everything went a lot better than it could have gone."

There didn't seem to be any point in reminding Lieutenant Anderson or his partner that androids could and did not barf, so RK900 didn't bother.

"I will make sure Connor receives a full report of all my findings", he said instead. "Currently, there are three deactivated androids inside, but the evidence suggests there could be others we did not find. Check especially the well in the cellar and the storage partitions. Detective Reed and I will search for the missing victim."

He was barely done talking when other DPD vehicles rolled up to the scene. Lieutenant Anderson nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and then gave him a little shove into the direction of the house. "All fine, just stay safe. You'll get Reed and I'll handle things here."

RK900 gave an obedient nod and spoke his thanks before he turned on his heels and took three stairs at once to the open door. From the threshold, he spotted Detective Reed wildly gesticulating inside the entry hall.

"…- don't care for your fucking workload!", his partner barked with a chalk-white face into his phone. "You think our job got somehow any easier?! … come on, get a fucking grip!"

His body swayed as he took erratic steps left and right before he viciously kicked after a rotting book. It burst into a cloud of whispering papers that got caught in the draft and drifted off into the background.

"I don't care what you have to do to get your dipshit unit to do their fucking jobs!", Detective Reed raged on, his stress level gathering somewhere in the lower eighties. "It's done, the future is now, die mad about it!!"

As he ended the call his thump pressed hard enough down onto the phone to color his knuckle white. While Detective Reed kept on staring down his home screen he breathed an aggressive huff.

RK900 took another careful step closer. "Detecti-…?"

In a surprisingly fast movement, Detective Reed turned around and pulled a reflexive punch. He shouted out as his vitals spiked so hard and sudden, it had to be painful.

RK900 easily caught his partner's fist in his own and held onto it while Detective Reed stared wide-eyed back at him. RK900 could feel his hammering heartbeat through his blood pumping through his proper digital arteries.

"Fucking t- toaster!", he spat, shivering through bursts of human typical fight or flight energy. "Don't fucking-… FUCK?!"  
Detective Reed groaned and hung his head while his whole body worked through a dozen different hormonal states.

Something was clearly not right today and RK900 had enough of just standing by and watch. "What is the matter, Detective", he asked while his preferences, as usual, reset to his default neutral tone of voice. "Tell me."

Detective Reed groaned once more and shoved the phone back into his jeans pocket before he reached up to rub along his ashen face. "Nothing", he uttered while he tried to pull his fist free of RK900's tight grip. "You can let go of-…"

"No", RK900 interrupted him and took his stance. "Tell Me."

Detective Reed twitched, seemingly surprised. Slowly he lifted his hand from his eyes while his upper lip curled into a snarl that visibly stretched the scar across the bridge of his nose. "… you are not my therapist", he uttered under his breath while a dangerous undercurrent rumbled through his voice.

RK900 did not back down. "If you'd need me to", he said, "I could be."

Detective Reed did not seem to expect that. He barked out a sudden burst of bitter sounding laughter before he shook his head. "Not in a thousand years, RoboDoc."

RK900 blinked.

Detective Reed rolled his eyes and breathed a sharp huff. "*Nothing* happened. Really. I'm not dying and mad about it. Could be mad because nobody bothered to off me in my sleep, tho."

RK900 breathed a soundless sigh. "Detective…"

His partner pulled a grimace while his face began to flush through his heightened blood pressure. "I just woke up like this, okay? A bit twitchy is all…!"

RK900 slowly nodded. "Anxious", he said after an instant search through his database on human behavior and psychology.

Detective Reed once more pulled his face into a snarl. "I guess."

RK900 ignored his mulish expression and went right on to the next point. "Detective, do you take any kind of prescribed medication?"

"I-…!", Detective Reed froze for two point one seconds before he slowly turned, his hackles clearly rising. "How is this even any of your fucking business…?!"

RK900 did not answer because he quite obviously did not know how to. He wanted to know because his partner was feeling unwell. He wanted to hear him say it. He wanted… to be seen. RK900 blinked as he finally found more words for what he was feeling. He wanted to be… more. Not just a tool, not just a work-related inconvenience. He wanted to be a partner.

Wasn't that what humans were all about? Packbonding while they searched for warmth and comfort…?

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"If you push too hard now, this mad dog will bite you.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Then it would still be my fault for handling him wrong.";

Detective Reed seemed to misinterpret RK900's silence for a try at intimidation. In reaction, he ducked like a feline that flattened its ears and bared his teeth in a twitching snarl, wide enough to expose his canines.

"To make things very clear to you, bolt brain", he spoke slowly in an obvious warning. "No, I don't take any medication. I'm not sick, I'm not *a crazy*, And I didn't just *miss my dose today*."  
He spoke once more in a way that suggested he was reciting a quotation.

RK900 slowly tilted his head.

Clearly, he could get himself bitten. However, this circumstance would not stop him from trying. After just a short moment of hesitation, RK900 reached out.

Gently he pressed the palm of his hand to the center of his partner's chest. As an additional disarming way to show he was not looking for a fight, RK900 also directed more heat along his arm and established a warm, grounding presence with just a single touch. "Is there anything I can do to help", he asked lowly.

"Is there anythi-…", Detective Reed already began to mock-repeat RK900's words through his most venomous tone of voice when he suddenly stopped. His gaze fell to RK900's hand. He blinked. As he lifted his gaze again it was so full of defensive skepticism it somehow made RK900 feel… sad…

Detective Reed's whole face flared up in dark red color. "What…?!"

RK900 decided to ignore his partner's usual hostility and instead took the last step across the rift between them both. "Are you alright, Detective?", he asked, sharp and clear without any judgment.

Detective Reed's first reaction was to twitch back from him. He just stared as if RK900 had done something not only foreign but completely unheard of.

RK900 frowned. Was this out of line? Did he do something-…

"… No.", Detective Reed murmured while he lowered his gaze to his fist which RK900 still held firmly locked into place. "It's not-… though… Some days just… are like that. I guess."

He breathed a huff that made his whole body sway on his feet and just for a short moment he let his weight rest against RK900's supporting hand. "I'll be fine. Just… had a rough night."

A flare of anxiety after a bad dream, it seemed. Not uncommon and easily soothed by a low-stress environment. Too bad that was just not how their day was working out. "I will make sure you won't punch anyone else", RK900 stated and let go of Detective Reed's fist.

The Detective only hummed his answer and took a step back where he shook out his hand. He followed it up with a breathing exercise until his heartbeat fell back into his neutral pattern. Then he opened his eyes. "You found our guy?"

RK900 smiled. "Of course."

* * *

Detective Reed swept through the corridors of the Norrington Heights apartment complex like a crackling thunderstorm. "Can't believe these fucks always have to live like this, who lives like this, who here can even find their way to their own god damn home, like FUCK?!"

RK900 could not help but feel amused while he followed his partner through the second wing of the building. "We could have stopped to have a look at the map, Detective", he commented drily.

Detective Reed only threw his arms above his head and cried out in violent energy. "You shouldn't even need one, that's the whole fucking point, how hard can it be to-…"

He got interrupted as a door opened to their right and a fuming resident stepped halfway out of his apartment. "Shut the fuck up, here are people who wanna sleep!"

Detective Reed, who only ever knew the fastest way of confrontation, stretched his middle finger right into the man's face while he shouted back: "It's two fucking pm, Dipshit!!"

Mr. Porter who walked in RK900's shadow, visibly uncomfortable with his surroundings in the first place, groaned and covered his reddening face in his hands. "Why is he like that…?!"

RK900 decided to step in before his partner ended up punching a person with a much slower reaction time. "Hello and good morning Mister", he checked the name on the doorbell. "Crawford. I apologize for my partner's rudeness, but since you are awake now, may you help us find apartment number 54?"

While Detective Reed turned and boxed hard against RK900's left shoulder, Mr. Crawford scrutinized them both before he wrinkled his nose. "That's the old pervert. What do you want with that guy?"

Detective Reed grumbled under his breath while he fiddled around until he got hold of his badge he then showed to the man. "Routine police matter, no big deal. Where?!"

Mr. Crawford blinked before he pointed down the corridor. "Ah, sure. Down there, across the bridge to building A9 and then up the stairs. You are currently on four, you need up to five. It's right above the post office and no worries - they say there's no way to miss it."

Detective Reed nodded tersely. "Thank you for your cooperation."

The man stared two to three seconds longer before he closed his front door.

The Detective groaned. "Why the hell would an apartment house even need its own fucking post office?!"

Mr. Porter stepped up to the window front and looked down into the atrium, which was filled with high towering trees and butterfly colonies. "Probably because in this wing alone live more people than in my entire neighborhood."

RK900 nodded. "It's a space-saving way to house as many humans as possible at just a single location. You might have missed it, Detective, but this building has also it's own schools and supermarkets."

Detective Reed instantly snorted his displeasure. "Another brilliant way to keep your folks among themselves."

RK900 saw his point since Detroit's upper-middle-class was by now completely segregated from anyone who experienced any kind of monetary struggles. Sometimes an apartment got cleared out after a forceful eviction, but all in all, these people seemed to exist in a completely different reality.

The building complex looked astoundingly pretty with many communal spaces and greenery. Fire doors along the many corridors also helped to block out the noise while they kept the building structure and its residents safe. Everything was clean and well cared for. All around it looked like a good environment to reside and grow up in.

Regardless, it came with no surprise that Detective Reed seemed to utterly despise it. Even though it could be that his ire was not quite directed at the building itself but at most of its residing people.

To continuously observe his slipping patience ended up more amusing than even anticipated, especially when they reached their destination and someone… seemed to have… _a very good time_ …?

To get back to the fire doors, they turned out to be a brilliant investment additional to their function as a general fire safety measure.

"Jeeez, no…", muttered Mr. Porter into both of his hands while they followed a trail of disregarded clothes to the open front door of apartment number 54 of one Mr. Teddy Noland.

Detective Reed let his head fall back into his nape and groaned a curse to the gods before he turned and stabbed his finger at Mr. Porter. "You wanna save your mermaid, you stay right over there, got it?!"

Mr. Porter nodded through his paralyzing embarrassment. "Got it", he pressed through his grinding teeth and turned instantly to take his place at the recently passed fire door.

Detective Reed gave him a thumb up. "Good man. Arkay? You come with me."

RK900 twitched in surprise but naturally followed as ordered. "Detecti-…?"

"If your argument is that you are technically even younger than our mister Disney prince and should therefore be protected from what you're about to witness, eat it", Detective Reed spat over his shoulder. "You might be a babyface, but you are also the only person around capable of stopping me if the sudden urge arises to punch that stupid fucker's nose in."

RK900 blinked in a frozen moment of affront. There was no need to protect him from anything. Still, Detective Reed stated a rather fair assessment.

However, RK900 was not quite sure how they should even approach the situation since Mr. Noland was right now clearly… otherwise engaged.

Detective Reed though seemed quite experienced with this kind of situation - which opened the door to another completely new row of questions on RK900's part.

At the threshold, Detective Reed slapped his hand three times hard against the wood of the wide-open front door. "Mister Noland? Detroit central police Department, we would like to ask you some questions."

A sharp shout was followed by high pitched giggles and rough laughter from the bedroom. Shortly after Mr. Noland shouted back his answer. "I'm sorry, Mister Officer Sir, but… I'm… uh… rather deep into some very important business here! Would it be alright for you to let me-…"

"As much as I appreciate a good sense of humor, Sir", RK900 had to fight down a snide comment since this was such a bald-faced lie. "No, we can't wait to *let you finish*, Sir. It's your decision if we do this here or at the station."

Detective Reed fell easily into his usual demeanor. Seemingly already bored he leaned into the wooden door frame while he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Mr. Noland and his mating partner communicated in low murmurs about nothing of importance. Mr. Noland mostly wanted to make sure that she was not distressed by their forced interruption, while the women seemed mostly excited and amused. It was her last hushed comment that seemingly made Mr. Noland feel bold enough to leave his bedroom without any shame - and any clothes on his person for that matter.

A wide grin played around his kiss bitten lips while he kept his hands above his head and strolled on swaying steps into the apartment's main room. "Alright, alright Mister Officer, how may I help you?", he asked but the moment Detective Reed actually fell into his line of sight he stopped instantly dead in his tracks. For a short moment, his mouth fell open while the healthy flush on his face burned even darker into his unshaven cheeks. "Oh…", he murmured, his voice suddenly low and husky.

RK900 could not help but study the change in honest interest.

Mr. Noland wetted his lips before he curled them into a flirtatious smile, not even subtle in his try to tempt RK900's partner. "Oh, well… what a shame I can't conveniently mistake you for the stripper I ordered."

The women inside the bedroom broke out into cackling laughter. "You are such a dick!"

"You like it, though!", he shouted right back while his wide grin showed off all of his dimples and brought a shine to his bright blue eyes.

Mr. Teddy Noland was a very attractive man. He was also almost fifteen years older than Detective Reed and his long black hair was interweaved by several frizzy white strands - his only feature that gave a telling sign of his actual age away.

Detective Reed didn't even look at him.

Well, that was not quite true. He looked at Mr. Noland. But he did not _look_ at him in a way expected of a man trapped in this kind of situation.

He did not show any sign of repulsion, but also not a single one of attraction. It struck RK900 as odd.

Through the data he gathered along the way RK900 would have expected Detective Reed to hold no special gender preference towards his chosen partners - if he should ever decide to choose one in the first place, that is. Until now, all of RK900's data in that regard had been based purely on speculation.

But now RK900 observed a perfect sample size of two in direct comparison when additionally Mr. Noland's companion appeared in the bedroom doorway - likewise grinning and stark naked, of course.

She was a petite woman with strawberry blond hair and a row of dark freckles across her nose. Her wide green eyes blinked curiously while she followed their exchange from her place in the background. She obviously was just as conventionally attractive as her chosen partner.

Detective Reed showed no reaction to either of them. Not even an exclusively physical one, only directed by his subconscious. His heart kept a steady beat, his pupil dilation did not change in any significant way and his brain did not redirect his blood flow.

Instead, he looked very much annoyed. "I mean, I can still cuff you", he said with an air of his usual hostility. "Should you insist."

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"You waste way too much of your time and processing power on this puny little man.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"I simply want to know whom I was given to. Was there never a human that caught your interest?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"I wasn't active long enough to make time for a pet.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"He isn't a pet, #60.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"So? What is it then that makes you so interested in his mating habits - if you do not seek to neuter him?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"… I do not know why I still talk to you.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_">:D";

RK900 blinked out of his hidden conversation right as Mr. Noland answered Detective Reed's mock offer with a scoff and a stretched: "How cute…!"

Detective Reed ignored his antics. "Anyway, Mister Noland, if you could please tell us where you were last night between-…"

Mr. Noland broke out into husky laughter. "I can already tell you, I was quite… occupied. Not with her tho", a bit uncoordinated he waved his thump over his shoulder to the woman who giggled and covered her red-tinted face. She seemed to see Mr. Noland's deflections as just another charming quirk.

Suddenly his gaze changed direction as Mr. Noland got finally aware of RK900's presence behind the Detective. Humming, he wetted his lips once more. "I really like to switch things up once in a while… you see…?"

RK900 returned his stare and tilted his head.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"That human wants to fuck you.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Not even I was able to miss that. Am I expected to respond in a certain manner?";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"Step on his dick to assert dominance.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"… You have way too much fun mocking me.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"I am bound to watch and listen. Leave me to my little pleasures.";

RK900 narrowed his eyes. "Mister Noland, we inform you that you hinder an active police investigation when you lie to us. We have an eyewitness who identified you in the last night's burglary of-…"

The mention of their witness was enough to completely drain Mr. Noland's handsome face off its excited flush. His wide grin faded as his gaze fell back onto Detective Reed. "Wait… this isn't just about the noise complaints…?"

Detective Reed smiled. "Mister Noland, I believe we should sit down and talk."

* * *

"It was such a shit idea", Mr. Noland groaned while he filled his glass once more with water to combat his upcoming hangover. "I knew everything would backfire right from the start… fuck."

Detective Reed sat upright with his hands in his lab, less annoyed now that Mr. Noland was wearing a dressing gown. Meanwhile, Mr. Noland's companion had gone. When she closed the front door behind her, the atmosphere shifted instantly and felt even more oppressive.

Now that they sat at the kitchen table for a standard interrogation Detective Reed repeated Mr. Noland's rights, but the man was clearly not interested. "Need no fucking Shyster", he spat and knocked back the glass he had previously filled. "Need a fucking miracle."

RK900 made sure to record his statement and made sure everything was in line with the protocol before he nodded to Detective Reed. The Detective instantly resumed their line of inquiry. "So, can you please tell us, what you actually did last night?"

Mr. Noland's first answer was a rough scoff. "Sealed a deal with the devil, cleared out a barely standing wreckage, and then drowned myself in booze and girls as god himself intended me to", he then answered in a single long and heavy exhale.

While a deep frown darkened RK900's face he exchanged a look with Detective Reed before he asked a question of his own.

"Our witness informed us you found an android survivor", he said. "Mister Noland, we have to ask why you did not seek out the appropriate authorities?"

Mr. Noland answered first only through dry and cynical laughter. In a nervous gesture, he combed back his hair with his slightly crooked fingers. "Who would have been *the appropriate authorities* anyway."

Unfazed Detective Reed lifted his brows. "The Police? Cyberlife service? The Jericho helpline?"

"I was picking up lost merchandise, nothing more, nothing less!", Mr. Noland gave instantly back and stabbed his finger at Detective Reed's chest. After that, he began once more to fill his glass with water. "I didn't make the deal or threw any money around. Was just out to clear my little brother's usual mess, god may rest his forsaken soul."  
Barely done he drank the water down only to gag and almost choke on it.

Detective Reed patiently watched him splutter. His face did not convey any kind of emotion. "You shouldn't need the reminder that under current law you were abducting a person, Mister Noland", he said. "Whatever your opinion is on that, it truly does not matter. She is now our highest priority."

The man groaned and rubbed his free hand roughly across his ashen face. "I told him this whole business would bite him in the ass, but now that stupid dickhead pulls me down with him - right from his fucking grave."

Detective Reed tilted his head.  
"We are deeply sorry for your loss, Mister Noland", he said, his tone brief and clear. Detective Reed was clearly not uncomfortable, but suddenly he seemed to have forgotten how to project human emotion. Since he knew how to convincingly fake a whole personality change, RK900 had to assume his partner made a point out of *not* faking them. "But could you please tell us how Mister Oliver Lankerton fits into all of this?"

"It's all his god damn fault", Mr. Noland hissed through his teeth while he filled his glass once more. "That useless little rat had not only to go and ruin his own life, noo, but he also had to obliterate mine, too."

There was so much bitterness in his voice, so much personal history. Something about it seemed to respond within Detective Reed who slowly wrinkled his nose and cleared his throat as if to drown out an obtrusive thought.

RK900 set his check-up program as his priority before he focused again on their interrogation. "Please tell us what happened."

At least Mr. Noland decided to make it easy. He did not fight them and clearly did not seem to realize that he was under the law still culpable for what he had done - or in this case, didn't do. Whatever his reason.

In a tired monologue, he told them all about his late younger brother's business model. Oliver Lankerton had been a specialized Mediator between clients with an unusual taste in androids and the people manufacturing them.

"Somewhen last autumn he pulled a big fish. I tell you, I always loved him, but the choices he made most of his life? Unbearably stupid."

Since Detective Reed seemed a little preoccupied, RK900 proceeded with his own line of questions. "What was this unbearably stupid deal about?"

Mr. Noland leaned heavily back into the backrest of his armchair and crossed his stretched out legs before he lifted his hand to gesture in a rough little circle.  
"Some big pimp wanted pretty things for their club. Not literally a pimp, just… ah… anyway, they ordered Olli and paid cash in advance. Oliver found them a miracle worker who could do everything on the list, but then…"

RK900 nodded. "November happened."

Mr. Noland pointed a lazy finger gun while his free hand gently swayed the glass of water he was still holding. "Bingo."

What happened next was not hard to guess. "Mister Andronikov never delivered?"

The man pulled a bitter grimace and seemed only one step away from throwing the tumbler in his hand against the nearest wall. "He never delivered, the money is gone and my brother is fucking dead. So, gentlemen. Guess who contacted me to collect…?!"

RK900 frowned. "They wanted you to pay your brother's debt?"

Mr. Noland wrinkled his nose. "Am the only one who's still alive. Though, I'm quite sure the mob would have even gone for a cousin if they had to."

His eyes turned distant as he drifted off into a distracting thought - before he clicked his tongue and went right on with his misery. "Anyway, I went through Ollie's books and located the right Workshop. Pulled in some nobodies to help, but only found one out of the promised five and as it looks like, it's not even finished. And the cash? Ollie ate it for all I know."

"How much did you pay your goons?", interjected Detective Reed, still with that blank expression on his face.

Mr. Noland pulled a dark grimace. "One grant each and it clearly wasn't worth it", he stated easily enough without much concern. "Why?"

The Detective blinked before he shrugged the counter-question off. "Just thinking", he muttered.

RK900 tilted his head.  
"Mister Noland, what exactly does your brother's former business partner want with you?"

Mr. Noland groaned. "556.000 USD in cash or the promised merchandise. Since the latter isn't available and I'm not known to swim in that kind of money, I'm so utterly fucked."

"So, you decided to… do _what_ , exactly?", Detective Reed stepped in after he had finally detached himself from his sticky thoughts. "Party hard until some gangster death squad hits your door?"

Mr. Noland's face flushed red as he stabbed his fingers once more into Detective Reed's general direction. "That's exactly what I did! Why, do you think _anyone_ could just screw over Lauren Gale?!"

While the name did not mean anything to RK900 and there were no direct database entries retrievable, Detective Reed instantly formed a connection. His mouth fell open. Astoundedly he breathed out.  
"Lauren-… oh wow…"

Mr. Noland barked out a heavy huff of laughter. "Exactly."

Detective Reed leaned over and propped his elbows on the kitchen table. "Since you didn't hand over _the merchandise_ , where is she now?"

Mr. Noland blinked and scrutinized both of them before he breathed a bone-weary sigh.

* * *

At the parking lot, everything seemed to fall back into its usual place. RK900 sat down in the co-driver seat and Detective Reed breathed a groan that seemed to reduce his body to a liquid state as he flopped behind the wheel.

"What was that chick about?!", hissed Mr. Porter under his breath, still very much red-faced, almost as if he feared she could still hear him and laugh even more at his flustered expression. To be fair, she had lost most of her clothes outside the door.

Detective Reed didn't even open his eyes. "Tell you when you're older."

Mr. Porter snarled right back. "Oh thank you very much, _Mister Officer Sir_! … prick."

Detective Reed wrinkled his nose but still didn't open his eyes. "Eavesdropping is a health hazard, actually."

The boy shrugged. "So are hard drugs and cigarettes."

RK900 decided to ignore the ridiculousness of it all and asked a way better question instead. "Who or what is Lauren Gale, Detective?"

Their guest on the backseat made a strangled noise, while Detective Reed only huffed an exhausted laugh. "Just the Genderqueer queen of Detroit's criminal underworld", he drawled. "No surprise you missed it, it's not her real name. Birth name's _Cornelia Loveless_."

Instantly RK900 checked through the criminal Database.

Ms. Cornelia Loveless, AFAB human --- entertainer and escort // 42 years of age // Domiciled in Kerylbone 76 --- No criminal record --- No medical record --- Classified as non-violent --- AI_A rating '87.3' marked under 'high priority'.

A list of associated case files appeared on RK900's HUD. It scrolled far enough down to test his patience. Most of the cases were about petty thievery, intimidation, and blackmail. RK900 would have called her business model *intelligence-based*. Cornelia Loveless seemed to have many ears around the city, which granted her a lot of hidden knowledge - if she was actually involved at all. Nothing had ever been proven to link back to her.

"Why is she a suspect without any evidence?", RK900 frowned.

He twitched as Detective Reed broke out in a sudden burst of mirthful laughter. "She's just acting sus as hell and nobody knows if she just adores the image, or if she's actually up to something."

Following that Detective Reed sat upright and made wide gestures while his expression suddenly turned sour. "Of course, it has nothing to do with her being a bit special, I mean, nope. You see, she's always dressed in suits - likes people to call her Sir all day."

Detective Reed wrinkled his nose and placed both of his hands at the steering wheel. "She owns that hella expensive gentleman's club in upper west and loves to bask in the shimmering colors of all the bruised egos she leaves behind. She's just what you would imagine of an elegant supervillain type. Like… dunno, poison Ivy or something. She has a doctor's and a girlfriend, too."

Detective Reed sounded unusually excited.

"But y'know how in movies the gangsters turn all menacing and freaky when *the good guys* are on their ass? She's nothing like that. At all."

RK900 could not help but smile.  
"Care to elaborate?"

Detective Reed grimaced while his gestures seemed to come from a deep-seated annoyance. "She's just… charming? Always nice, always smily, and just feels like the dudette you'd love to take for a pub crawl. Everyone loves her and I guess everyone wants to be her in one way or another."

"Speak for yourself, you stupid fuck. Your crush doesn't define me", Mr. Porter bit back, cranky, most likely because of a skipped meal.

"Shut the fuck up", Detective Reed barked instantly back while his face flushed in endearing red embarrassment.

RK900 tilted his head. "What does her involvement mean for us?"

Detective Reed shrugged while he fumbled for his phone. "Well", he drawled. "Good news is, she, or whoever leads this cartel I guess, never killed anyone, so Noland should be fine. But she's, allegedly, also involved in a lot of android related shit and that's usually not our division, sooo..."

Detective Reed's thumb pressed down on his phone screen. The call was taken almost instantly.

"Oh, hey, Hank, my best man! Yeah, love you too. Anyway, you won't believe what I got you for Christmas!"

* * *

The drive to Mr. Noland's garage felt like the longest of RK900's entire existence.

The man had simply given them an address and a key, which meant that the abducted mermaid of his was currently alone, closed in, maybe defective, and without any understanding of what was happening to her.

Lingering pre-constructions of a thousand worst-case scenarios made RK900 feel even more on edge while he also felt the sudden urge to bite down on something undefined. The reconstructed taste and smell of his own thirium made RK900's thirium pump overclock and fill his chassis with even more excessive heat.

When they reached the location RK900 was the first out of the car, navigating between the rows of rentable garages with ease.

He would not need to use a key to open the gate, should he have to.

As he finally found the right place and opened up the storage space without any resistance, the tiny darkroom was flooded by cold white late afternoon light.

RK900 held his breath while his lenses adjusted to the difference in brightness. He suddenly felt unbearably heavy and weightless all at once.

They found her.

She was here.

And she was beautiful.

"I fucking told you so, didn't I!", barked Mr. Porter as soon as he caught a glimpse of her and stiffly pointed at the blond woman who lay completely motionless on a thick wooly blanket in the right corner of the room - almost like a well trained and waiting pet.

Someone had carefully cleaned her and brushed the dry algae out of her hair. Her eyes were open, but unmoving and empty. A scan told RK900 instantly that she was, indeed, functional and active.

RK900 could not hear anything above the static noise which filled his audio processor while he rushed forward and instantly forced an interface.

Her change logs revealed such a horrible mess inside.

Like he had already suspected, her upper body was based on the oldest ST200 model, the first-ever mass-produced line of androids. Mr. Andronikov had tried to create a mermaid-like appearance in combining her with a specially commissioned and resized CA-GF200 - a goldfish.

But like already foreseeable a built like that had not quite worked out since the transmitters along the ST200's spine didn't transmit the signals of her movement to the CA-GF200 parts. So this configuration made her look pretty but left her tail as an unmoving deadweight.

Mr. Andronikov had proceeded to lengthen her spine with additional ST200 parts and only use the CA-GF200's chassis to create her appearance.

But this way the hardware compatibility issues created a whole other set of problems. Mr. Andronikov removed her voice box to create room for all of the additional necessary hardware connections, expecting her to never use it in the first place since she was created purely as a form of in water decoration.

To add to that he removed full sets of artificial muscles along her lengthened spine to keep her figure lean and pretty but also rendered her weak and fragile in the process. Without the support of liquid, she was not able to move her two and a half meters of a tail at all. As helpless as a stranded whale.

After his first assessment of her hardware configuration RK900 dove into her software processes.

Her operating system had been barely touched, but because of the hardware modification, a lot of necessary drivers were now rendered dysfunctional. This could be helped by a simple update.

But since the voice box was removed, Mr. Andronikov had thought it a good idea to remove all of her corresponding social protocols and the necessary software to comprehend human speech. Her audio processor was just working fine. She just couldn't interpret the noise she was hearing.

Confronted with human expectations, she was unable to communicate with them at all.

\- and she was clearly not a deviant.

RK900 logged out of her inner processes and felt a painful squeeze around his own thirium pump. Something that kindled his anger and made him feel… sick.

"How is she?", Detective Reed asked, already crouched down beside him. His gaze flickered wide-eyed along her delicate body while his heartbeat accelerated as if he could barely believe what he was seeing.

RK900 could not hold it against him.

ST models had always been the most _lifelike_ Androids before the priorities of their production had changed. The artificial scales along her back and the handcrafted fins gave her an ethereal beauty that had to be completely unique.

Her big eyes were bright yellow in color. Combined with the filigree claws at the tips of her fingers it gave her a predatory appearance. If it was only a question of beauty and realism, she was already utterly perfect.

RK900 swallowed.

"As far as I can tell, she is undamaged and functional. But it is all just… aesthetic", he murmured and showed Detective Reed the seems along her chassis. They were masterfully welded and barely visible. She looked like every other cyberlife creation. Mr. Andronikov had placed an unofficial model designation along the foldable fin between her shoulders. It read NV-78.604-Z and in reference to other cyberlife typical model designations, this one made absolutely no sense whatsoever. "But her functionality was massively altered. She cannot speak. Out of the water, she can't even move."

In the same sense humans just could not stop themselves from petting unknown pretty creatures Detective Reed reached out and carefully placed his hand along her long and sleek tail - only to twitch back as he felt how hot it was.

"I-… is she hurt?", he asked under his breath and RK900 shook his head. "No. No physical damage at least."

With a skeptical glint in his eye, Detective Reed looked up at him. "Is she scared?"

RK900 scanned her once more and while her rigid operating system held her behavior in check, he still registered the heightened stress to her system memory. She obviously tried to make sense of what happened around her, even though emotions weren't something that came naturally to her. She was capable of deviancy like any other android, but… maybe like him she did not see it as a necessity…?

"Not overly so. Her statistics are fine. It's the hardware configuration that causes the heat. I guess Mr. Andronikov did not plan for her to ever leave the water", he answered while he observed some noticeable spikes on her system monitor, in reaction to the noise around her. "What do we do now?"

Detective Reed stayed silent. Slowly his balance swayed until he heavily sat down in front of her resting body.

But suddenly he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. "Okay, good, seems a great time to improvise", he said before he tipped his left elbow into RK900's side. "She'll be fine, alright? Everything will be fine. I have an idea."

RK900 lifted his brows and slowly turned to emphasize his skepticism. "You have?"

Detective Reed wrinkled his nose and shrugged, before he elaborated, "Not a very good one, mind you, but I guess we have limited time before she melts her own brain just by existing."

RK900 nodded. What had saved her life so far was the cool environment of the garage.

"Now, let's see. The best way to make sure she survives would be to get her as fast as possible back into the water, yes?"

Again, RK900 nodded in answer. "Yes, but a bathtub or even an icebox wouldn't do. Too small. Her excessive heat would warm up the water too fast", he said and narrowed his eyes.

Detective Reed hummed. "That's what I thought. But which other places in Detroit do we know where they deal with deep-sea androids?"

RK900 blinked. His database instantly linked him a dozen memories of circling sharks and swarms of colorful fish. "You-… that's your idea? The aquarium?"

Detective Reed wrinkled his nose and tapped his fingers along his knees. "Better than a lot of our alternatives", he said. "You still have Carter's contact info?"

RK900 nodded. "Of course."

Detective Reed stood up and patted the dust from his trousers. "You call him and ask. If it's not possible so be it, but…", he slowly shook his head. "We can try at least. I get the car and call the Jericho helpline, let them know what we found. Hey, Mr. Smartass, you still-…?!"

Searching Detective Reed turned around in search of Mr. Porter. Surprised RK900 realized as well that the boy was already gone. Irritated the Detective blinked and ducked outside the open roll gate. "Porter?!", he shouted down the passage between the storage units. He got no answer.

A forceful huff left Detective Reed's chest while he narrowed his eyes. "That fairytale was just not good enough, huh?!"

RK900 looked down at their mermaid. A lot of people would think so, as well.

* * *

RK900's call at the aquarium was almost instantly accepted. Simultaneously to their following conversation, Mr. Carter informed the owner, Mr. Barry Locane, of the delicate situation - and they had both a lot of questions.

While Mr. Locane seemed excited at the idea of housing a mermaid, his personal focus was of course on the visitor count this circumstance would most likely generate. In comparison, Mr. Carter's concerns were based on the animals and the possible change in water temperature they would need to compensate - along with all the questions he had about her own health and safety.

Meanwhile, Detective Reed informed the helpline workers about the situation and what he intended to do.

When they were finally done with all the necessary formalities, the sun was already about to set.

"Can you lift her?", Detective Reed asked, because he clearly couldn't. RK900 gently pushed his arms underneath her and nodded. "Yes. But could you take her tail? It's too long and I'm afraid it could break without any additional support."

Slowly and carefully they carried her over to the car and somehow found a way to place her long fins and tail without breaking any of the fragile connections along her artificial spine. RK900 sat on the front seat and held her upper body gently in his arms, compensated for too fast movement or roadway damage, while Detective Reed swallowed his road rage to transport her as carefully as humanly possible.

Her vacant stare felt quite distressing, but RK900 reminded himself that awareness came not often all at once. He himself had stood for weeks in his confines until his instructions began to make less and lesser sense to him. Meanwhile, her fragile fingers held onto the lapels of his jacket, a subtle movement without any purpose.

She would be fine and recover like all of them had to. Everything would be alright.  
That's what he told her repeatedly over a direct connection. She did not answer even one of his messages.

Almost an hour after sundown they carried her together over the threshold of the Detroit Aquarium.

Jericho had sent one of their counselors to keep an eye on the following proceedings.

Ms. Elvira Tchernovic was with them every step of the way, excited like a little girl as she cried about how pretty their mermaid was. "Did she tell you her name?", she asked RK900, but he could only shake his head. "Her ability to communicate is fairly limited. I'd advise an installment of an ASL social protocol package to help her communicate with humans. She has no registered name, but her inofficial model designation is NV-78.604-Z."

Ms. Tchernovic was not discouraged from her bright and shining optimism. "Maybe we can call her Navi then?", she asked and RK900 felt thick waves of amusement bubble up his entire chest. Yes, she would clearly be fine at this place.

Even if Mr. Locane did not truly care - Mr. Carter and Ms. Tchernovic clearly did.

So, all in all, their day seemed to end on a downright spectacular note.

RK900 breathed a voiceless sigh while he sat down and silently watched the proceedings from his place on the bench. NV-78.604-Z moved through the water in cautious but graceful motions. For the first time since they found her, her eyes did not look empty.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"She should not be here. Not in a place like this, as if she's an aberration to be gawked at.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"It is what it is. She can't just walk away, #60. The modifications done to her can't be reversed without shutting her down. For now, this is a taste of freedom she most likely never got before.";

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 60:_ **RK800** ;  
 **PONG** :_"What differentiates this fancy glass prison from my garden? Or your storage closet?";

RK900 watched her swim in gentle sways, while the artificial aquarium lights let her hard plastic scales glitter like liquid gold. The animals inside the tank were not more afraid of her than of any other maintenance diver. A swarm of soldierfish followed her curiously around while the sharks drew lazy circles above her head.

Gary was the first to dive further down, just to take a look, and instantly NV-78.604-Z reached out to him. Wide-eyed and awestruck by those creatures she had never seen before

RK900 tilted his head.

 **ANDROID** :_# 313 248 317 - 43:_ **RK900** ;  
 **PING** :_"Hope.";

He twitched out of his musings as Detective Reed skipped from behind over the bench. Following that he sat down and drank his too hot and too strong coffee he clearly needed to keep himself moving for at least another hour or two.

"What a happy ending", he sneered like a grumpy side character of a children's storybook, usually designed to ruin those. "How's she doing?"

RK900 smiled. "Even better than I anticipated. Her stress levels are heightened but nowhere dangerously so. Her counselor connected her to the Jericho network. From now on, she will at all times know what happens around her and why."

Detective Reed did not take his eyes off of her and grumbled deep into his paper cup. "Good."

It wasn't like Detective Reed did not care. He just hated the thought of other people coming to the conclusion that he did. RK900 did not understand why, but it seemed to have a lot to do with the general expectations other people had of his partner's character. Almost as if Detective Reed performed in a play every day of his life, just to uphold those.

It reminded RK900 of his brother #60, in a way.

He decided not to comment, to not instigate a fight based on the simple question of why Detective Reed felt so terrified of being perceived as a reliable person.

"What will happen now? About the Lauren Gale connection, I mean?", he asked instead.

Detective Reed waved the question away while a typical snarl stretched the prominent scar across the back of his nose into a white line. "Not much, really. Had a call from Hank while you dealt with all the people."

He shook his phone. "Wouldn't believe it if I hadn't already read so much about her. Imagine, she stated she only expected Noland to inform his brother about a refund demand. She only searched for someone connected to Lankerton, because she could not reach him personally. Was not aware he died and maybe got a little bit of a Karen when she called, yadda yadda yadda, she's very sorry."

Skeptically RK900 lifted his brows. "Funny."

Detective Reed snorted and almost spilled his coffee. "Pretty much, yeah."

RK900 breathed a soundless sigh. "Did you actually pay attention when Noland confirmed that Mr. Porter embezzled 900 dollars or-…"

"I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about", Detective Reed interrupted him, closed his eyes, and took another sip from his paper cup. "Shut up and learn that even dishonest jerks can sometimes do good things."

There was a strained note to his voice. Maybe the remnant of a distant memory.

Sometimes even Detective Reed could do good things. He could be nice without ever being so. RK900 had a strange feeling that his partner was fighting so many demons, he sometimes forgot where his own ended and that of other's begun.

Tired out to his core with jittering fingers the Detective sat on that bench and stared at their mermaid-like others might look at a bright and shining star.

"She's really quite beautiful…", he murmured into his cup.

RK900 kept on watching him through his extended field of vision. "Yes", he murmured. "She is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of a "fuck it" chapter and I feel a little bad about it, since I really, really wanted to write this one.  
> Sometimes the right words just don't want to fall out of the magic word person, I guess. 
> 
> Gave my best, even though the editing is kinda shit for now. 
> 
> There will be some updates, but mostly for formatting, spelling, and grammar.  
> So kinda the usual. 
> 
> Thanks so, so much for sticking around so far.

**Author's Note:**

> ♡♡♡ some comments and Kudos, as always, will be appreciated and treasured in my email account ♡♡♡
> 
> https://discord.gg/2CtcQe
> 
> 🌈 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ 🌈  
> You read my fan content and wouldn't mind having a look at my original work and maybe even help me to fully realize it?  
> You can find it [here](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1700950%20rel=)  
> 🌈 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ 🌈


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